As Luck Would Have It
by teresa
Summary: Valentine's Challenge issued by Jade! Draco Malfoy is tired of always losing to Harry Potter, and he has a plan that will either win him all the glory he's ever wanted, or kill him. What could go wrong?


This is a challenge, because that is how Jade and I celebrate Valentine's Day. That and a long day of watching movies and boozing. I guess I have to get al that in before my boyfriend gets out of school and can actually spend the day with me this time of year…yeah, some day.

The challenge is explained at the end of the story, but before then, I should explain that this takes place during a mostly non-canon seventh year. Your first hint is that they're all at Hogwarts, and no one's on the worst camping trip ever. There are hints of canon events, but this story is for fun, despite some of the darker elements, so please don't hold me to a high level of continuity…it's not gonna happen.

And Harry Potter is the intellectual property of JK Rowling, along with her millions of dollars. I do not have millions of dollars. Not even close. No suing please.

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As Luck Would Have It

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Draco had come up with the perfect plan to finally best Harry Potter on the Quidditch pitch. And whatever other people would say, it was _not_ cheating. After all, he'd spent six months stewing the stuff, and it had been a pain trying to hide what he was doing all through the summer holidays, following each of the ridiculously complicated steps. He had not asked for help from Snape, he had done it himself. After all, wasn't it sometimes said that you make your own luck? Besides that, Snape would have likely laughed in his face and told him to scurry off.

Draco was brewing a batch of Felix Felicis. When he had first heard of the potion, he had been understandably intrigued, and any warnings that it was extremely difficult to make and could be quite dangerous had fallen on deaf ears. It wasn't like he was planning to become a luck potion junky. He had bet Ginny Weasley fifty galleons that he would be able to best Potter at Quidditch by the end of his time at Hogwarts, which meant he didn't have a lot of time. After his last defeat, he had decided that this was the only way, and despite rules that said it was "cheating" to use a luck enhancer, he felt that it was also cheating to have the Chosen One as your Seeker. The match against Gryffindor was in three days, and this potion had taken so much skill and subtlety he seriously doubted that any student besides him could possibly hope to make it successfully.

Although…he was a little concerned maybe he'd done something wrong. He knew it was supposed to be gold in color, and he remembered last year when Slughorn had made some and given it to Potter after that _clearly_ rigged competition, it had bubbled and leapt from its tiny cauldron distinctively.

His looked more bronze than gold…but he was willing to attribute that to the dim light in the dungeons. It _was_ bubbling…but he seemed to remember Slughorn's batch looking a bit more lively. That was probably just due to the cold down here. If he'd brewed it somewhere warmer with better light, he was sure it would look perfect. After all, he had always been Snape's favorite, which meant that he was clearly the best student at Potions in all of Hogwarts, even if Snape no longer taught Potions. This made sense to Draco. Potion brewing required inborn talent, attention to detail, and confidence. And he was confident that he must have made this right.

But it wouldn't hurt to test it.

"Crabbe, could I borrow your owl?" Draco asked his friend rather casually, a few Felicis-laced treats tucked in a packet hidden in his robes. "Mine is feeling under the weather and I wanted to write my father to tell him to be sure to come to the next Quidditch match."

"Cause you're gonna beat Potter this time, right?" Crabbe asked enthusiastically and Goyle demonstrated his enthusiasm by using his favorite gesticulation, punching his hand forcefully.

"Er…yes, yes I am." Draco nodded confidently. Confidence was key here. If he believed something would happen, it would. Clearly, those other times, he had doubted. But now, bolstered by luck, he would win the day the way he so clearly deserved. Cheating…clearly he was just making the playing field even. If anyone had too much luck, it was that stupid Potter and his stupid scar. "Exactly right. So if I could…"

"Sure thing," Crabbe agreed and hulked off to fetch his owl while Goyle continued cracking his knuckles to fill in the silence. Draco wondered momentarily if he should test the potion on his lackeys, but since he was vaguely worried that if it had gone wrong they might fall over dead and cause many inconvenient questions and a lengthy application process to be replaced, he decided this idea was better. His own owl was also too valuable. He was about as pureblood as owls came, having been bred from owls that had served the Malfoy family for generations, and he was rather sure that if anything happened to him, he'd be forced to have a toad or something as punishment. His father understood just how important Draco's image was to him and used it to his full advantage.

_Finally I'll beat Potter, and father will get me a better broom. Not to mention all the glory…_

Draco imagined that when he finally caught the Snitch first, when his team plowed Harry's completely, he would be carried off the field on the shoulders of his fellows in a rain of champagne and confetti. In this daydream, Snape broke down in tears of joy, and he was carried down the halls, hefting the Quidditch cup in one hand, his adoring acolytes crying out their love and admiration as he passed. Ginny Weasley would be furious with Harry, since fifty galleons was likely more money than her entire family could save in a decade. Yes, the Weasleys brought to ruin, Potter crushed and despondent, everyone singing Draco's praises. It would be a great day.

Perhaps he should start working on the lyrics to some suitable victory song and hand them out to the other Slytherins? He did so love a good sing along. He would have to be sure to include a verse about how stupid Potter was…or maybe something about him being an orphan. That was always a good fall back.

"Pancake, you do what Draco says, okay?" Crabbe was back with his owl, a hulking grey thing that looked like it probably tried to kill other owls for fun, made slightly less threatening by its ridiculously idiotic name. Trust Crabbe to ruin something so simple. He took the owl and headed back to his own room. One of the perks of being Head Boy was added privacy, and it had been invaluable to him in the brewing of the Felix Felicis. Locking the door behind him, he tossed the treats on the ground for Pancake, who attacked them ferociously. The owl was a bit blind, and feeding him was a gamble if you wanted to do it by hand. He had nearly taken off Goyle's hand last year.

He watched the owl, waiting to see if it burst into flame or looked sick or anything, but Pancake seemed fine. He hopped over to Draco's window and tapped on the glass, clearly wanting out, but Draco wanted to be sure that there were no unforeseen side effects of the potion, so he left the owl in his room and headed back out, running straight into Pansy Parkinson.

"Hello, Draco," she fluttered her lashes at him and he groaned inwardly. Maybe the luck potion would also help him with this situation. He had tried setting her up with Goyle, had tried letting her catch him snogging Blaise, had even tried simply telling her he was gay and would never be interested in ladies, but she was nothing if not persistent. He couldn't blame her, really. He was clearly the best looking Slytherin, if not the best looking student at Hogwarts. And it probably would have been more effective if he had set her up with a better looking Slytherin. He imagined a date with Goyle probably consisted of a lot of grunts and that ripe locker room smell his trollish companion often harbored. Draco could have set her up with Nott, but he was pretty sure Nott would have killed them both, and while it had occurred to him to set her up with Blaise, that would have detracted from his own quasi-relationship with the other boy. He knew that Blaise was seeing other people, but Draco had decided playing the field wasn't for him when one snog with a dark-haired Ravenclaw had resulted in weeks of being stalked that had culminated in Draco having to Obliviate his suitor. Blaise seemed to be allergic to commitment, which suited Draco perfectly. He needed lots of free time for studies and for bringing down Harry Potter, and a real relationship would have just eaten up too much of his time.

"Hello, Pansy." He walked past her as though completely uninterested in her existence, but she was not deterred.

"So, Draco, what are we doing on Saturday?" she asked him, grabbing his arm and latching on as he decided it was time to head to dinner.

"Saturday?" he shook his head vaguely. "Quidditch is Saturday. You're watching me destroy the Gryffindor team. Incidentally, I'm preparing a song for my triumph, if you could distribute it and teach it to the others."

"No, I mean," she giggled slightly. "Obviously you'll win. I meant the Saturday _after_ that. It's Valentine's Day, remember?"

"Ah," Draco shuddered inwardly. His idea of a good Valentine's Day was one in which Pansy didn't throw herself on him or tie him down in an effort to despoil him. "I think I'm busy that day."

"Didn't you want to take me out to dinner? Or maybe we could just have a picnic in the Astronomy Tower, and then after that…" she tried to turn his head toward her for a kiss, and he wriggled away, extremely annoyed that she had mussed his hair in the process. "What plans could you have?"

"Er…Blaise and I…yeah, I decided I'm in love with him." Draco invented wildly. He would have to fill Blaise in, and it would cost him to buy Blaise's compliance. He was game for snogging in the common room to try to break Pansy's heart, but to have him fake a relationship, possibly for longer than a week, would be expensive. Blaise didn't like having to keep his philandering secret, which he would have to do if this was to work. "So…yes, so we're dating now. And we're going to have a romantic dinner. Since it's Valentine's Day."

"Well…can I come as well?" Pansy asked, not deterred. "I'm sure Blaise won't mind."

"Oh…um, well, he gets very jealous." Draco told her as solemnly as he could. "If he thought there was anything going on between us, he'd probably curse you silly. He just…loves me so much. Yes, that's right. In fact, you'd better not touch me at all or he might kill you."

"Really?" Pansy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I thought that Blaise said he'd never let someone tie him down, no matter how hot they were and no matter how well they kissed."

"He's changed his mind since then. He's madly in love with me, you see." Draco explained.

"That was this morning at breakfast." Pansy reminded him.

"Well…sometimes things like this…they come on all of a sudden." He nodded. "Yes, so you'd better just stay away from me, or he might hurt you."

"Oh, you're worried for me?" Pansy's shrewd look left in favor of her standard love struck expression. "Draco, dear, don't worry. We'll get through this. You'll see."

"Great." Draco wondered if fifty galleons would buy Blaise's silence.

----------

"Would you _stop_ laughing?" Draco crossed his arms and glared at the other boy threateningly. "It isn't funny."

"You expect…expect anyone to _believe_ I'd fall in love with you?" Blaise managed, tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued to laugh.

"I don't need _everyone_ to believe it, just Pansy." Draco told him irritably. "Anyways, I have the feeling that my luck with her will turn, and you won't have to worry about it anymore. Last Valentine's Day she kept me in a closet half the day, trying to force herself on me…ugh." He shuddered at the memory. "Can't you do me this one favor?"

"Why don't you just get a real boyfriend?" Blaise asked, chuckling still. "Pansy's never going to think I care about you, she knows I'm sleeping with ten other people."

"You've seen the error of your ways and you're devoted to me now!" Draco stomped his foot in a fit of annoyance at Blaise's mocking tone. "And you know that I'm not really interested in anyone here. It'll just be for a month or so, just until she gives up on me."

"Pansy will _never_ give up on you, dolt." Blaise rolled his eyes. "And there's no way I'm going to be monogamous for any length of time, least of all for a fussy pain in the ass like you."

"I'll pay you," Draco had hoped to pull this off using just Blaise's loyalty and attraction to him, but it was clear that wouldn't work.

"I don't _need_ money." Blaise told him pointedly. "What about Potter?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Draco furrowed his brow. "What does that berk have to do with whether or not you'll help me out?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Blaise shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Pansy'll never buy you and I, but if you went after him, she'd know it was serious."

"What?" Draco scoffed. "He's low class, and an unbearable do-gooder. I would never—"

"You're completely obsessed with him," Blaise began ticking items off on his fingers. "You talk about him all the bloody time, you're constantly trying to get his attention, you spend more energy plotting against him than you do on anything else. He's the same way with you. There's a secret betting pool about when you two will finally jump each other, because _everyone_ can tell. It's obvious."

"What…what?" Draco spluttered, his face crimson with what he decided must be rage. "Who would ever…stupid Gryffindor…and his hair's atrocious!"

"Yeah, okay," Blaise sighed. "Why do you think I don't seem at _all_ concerned about the fact that you don't sleep around the way I do? My other arrangements are all two-sided, but you sit there, wallowing in denial, picturing him while we're together, I don't doubt. I can't help that you have some acute form of insanity that forces you to want to date a Gryffindor. And besides that, he's not bad looking."

"Have you…you and he…him and you…" Draco couldn't even get the words out, and Blaise started laughing all over again.

"No, I haven't," Blaise shrugged off the suggestion. "Not that I'd mind. That bed-head thing he's got going on, and have you seen him shirtless? Not bad at all."

"That's…that's gross!" Draco insisted. "I would never…not him. I hate him!"

"Yeah, sure you do." Blaise nodded with an infuriatingly knowing smirk on his face. "I'm just saying, if you hooked up with him, Pansy might back off a little."

"I wouldn't!" Draco repeated, scowling. "I can't believe you think Potter's sexy."

"I never used that word." Blaise pointed out. "I said not bad."

"Whatever! I'm not going to lower myself to that level just to get Pansy off my back! I'd rather date the giant squid! I'd rather date Pansy!" Draco paced back and forth in the empty classroom where Blaise and he usually met.

"Then date her," Blaise shrugged. "If you'd rather do that then get away from her, just give in already. Although good luck carrying on with a girl."

"You don't know! I could snog a girl if I really wanted to!" Draco told him, extremely annoyed that Blaise seemed to find this all so hilarious.

"I think that the issue of wanting to has really been your only obstacle this whole time." Blaise deadpanned. "Fine, it's your funeral. I try to help you out, and this is the thanks I get—"

"I asked for your help and you said no!" Draco reminded him.

"Sorry, I'm not the self-sacrificing sort," Blaise told him, examining his nails. "If that's the kind of fuck-buddy you wanted, you should've gone to Potter in the first place."

"I told you I would never—"

"Yes, yes, of course." Blaise stepped forward, moving into Draco's personal space. "So, are we going to spend this whole time debating your obsession or are you going to take your pants off?"

"I don't even feel like it anymore!" Draco huffed and stormed out of the room. Stupid Blaise. Of all the idiotic things to say…besides that, even if he _did_ want to do that sort of thing with that goody-goody Gryffindor git, everyone knew that Harry was hot for Ginny Weasley, even though they'd broken up. Harry had been single since then, although Draco had it on good authority that Ginny was playing the field again. Mostly because he knew she was one of Blaise's lovers.

He slammed the door behind him when he returned to his room and saw Crabbe's owl sitting calmly on the window sill, still not dead or on fire. Excellent.

Soon, his luck would turn.

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Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, with a crisp chill to the air that invigorated Draco. He'd rushed to breakfast and was feeling euphoric despite the fact that Pansy was hanging onto his arm once more, now that she'd verified that his claims of a relationship with Blaise were completely made up. He had the vial of Felix Felicis in his pocket, as he was planning to take it after breakfast so that it would be working to its full effect in time for the Quidditch match. That morning he'd finally let Pancake out, since the owl still seemed fine, though not particularly lucky. He wasn't sure how you would be able to determine an owl was lucky or not. Perhaps the real luck would be if he had never been named Pancake.

Even though he hadn't taken the potion yet, he felt that everything would go his way today. He'd finally be rid of Pansy, he'd defeat Potter, and who knew what other amazing things he might accomplish? Perhaps his homework would do itself and Dumbledore would denounce Potter and declare Draco as Hero of the Wizarding World.

"For luck," Pansy kissed his cheek when he stood up to leave the table and head to the locker rooms.

"I make my own luck," he couldn't help the evil grin overtaking his face as he headed to meet up with his team and flatten Gryffindor. On the way, he stepped into a bathroom and when he was alone, downed the entire vial of potion. He felt a strange tingling, and he chuckled again. Today would be his day.

When he reached the locker room, he noticed there seemed to be some sort of confusion going on amongst his team. "Where's Crabbe?" he asked Goyle when he noticed one of his Beaters was missing. "He wasn't in the Great Hall when I left."

"It's his owl," Bletchley spoke up when Goyle shrugged. "Apparently it was out on the grounds when Filch was trimming the hedges back, and it swooped in without seeing him."

"What…happened?" Draco felt suddenly sick to his stomach.

"Its head got cut clean off." Bletchley shook his head. "Some luck."

"Yeah…that's…that's some luck." Draco sat down on a bench suddenly, feeling as though this day maybe wouldn't be his day after all. "Did…is it okay?"

"Draco, how would something with its head off be okay?" Bletchley gave him an odd look.

"Oh…I just thought, maybe there'd be some miraculous recovery." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"You don't look well, Draco." Bletchley noted, squatting down to peer at him. "Should I get Harper?"

"Er…" Draco licked his lips. Could it have just been coincidence? Surely if he'd made the potion wrong, the bird would have just died. "I…I'm fine."

_It did just die. It got decapitated. What kind of coincidence is that?_

Maybe it would be all right. After all, the potion couldn't last forever. The owl's death was probably because it got overconfident after being so lucky. Draco bent to untie his shoes, trying to ignore the way that Bletchley kept looking over to see if he was going to pass out, which felt like a distinct possibility at the moment, and cringed as his shoelace broke.

"Bad luck," Bletchley commented. "Still, won't matter if your shoes are on when you're up on your broom."

_Bad luck._

_Oh good lord._

"Could you…could you do me a favor?" Draco fished a sickle out of his robes, handing it over to the Keeper. "Flip that for me."

"Oh…kay." Bletchley frowned and flipped it in the air.

"Tails," Draco called as it came down, and Bletchley showed him the coin.

_Heads._

_Bloody hell._

Why was this happening? He had brewed it perfectly, he knew. He had followed every step with meticulous care! And if it was not made right, why couldn't it have the good sense to just poison anything that drank it? He felt queasy and angry and terrified all at once. He did not want to be decapitated. And clearly…he knew that the vial should have lasted him all day, but he'd fed only a few drops to Pancake, and that had been three days ago! How long was he going to be cursed?

_If I had some real Felix Felicis…maybe that would reverse the effect and I would just end up having normal luck._

The concept seemed sound. The real question was where he would get some, and how the hell he was going to be able to get anyone to help him when he was currently a walking jinx magnet. Maybe if he explained this to Snape…he could already picture the professor laughing at his request, but maybe if he realized it was a matter of life and death…maybe then Snape would help him. Or Slughorn…even if he was a pompous old fool, he wouldn't just let a student die.

_I wonder if it'll be my head, or if something else will happen to me?_

He suddenly felt very concerned about the impending Quidditch match. Yesterday, he had been sure he would win the day, but now he was thinking that he'd just be lucky if he lived. Unfortunately, he was not very lucky at the moment.

"Flip it again." He bit his lip as Bletchley complied with a look of utter confusion on his face. He had him flip it twenty times, and every time, he called it wrong. He was undeniably suffering from acute bad luck, and since it had been fatal to Pancake, he was now understandably concerned for his own welfare. "I think…maybe Harper should play."

"I knew you looked off." Bletchley nodded and wandered off to find the reserve Seeker. Crabbe had returned to the locker room and was changing in morose silence. He'd had that owl since he was a child. Draco felt a twinge of guilt, but he decided that an owl could be replaced easily. He felt quite sure that he was a different matter.

"Crabbe, I heard about Pancake." Draco approached his friend, feeling he must make amends. "My mother's owl just bred, and I'm sure if I asked, you could have one of the brood."

"Th—thanks." Crabbe sniffled slightly, though he didn't appear to actually be crying. "He was old anyway…but he was a good owl."

"I know," Draco wished he didn't feel so guilty, but at the same time, he was a bit more concerned with his own neck. It was too late for Pancake, anyway. Crabbe would get over it.

"Draco!" Bletchley came back then, panting as though he'd been running. "Harper can't play. He was coming with me and he fell down the stairs. He's in the hospital wing now, but Pomfrey says he can't play Quidditch today."

"I thought you were gonna crush Potter today." Crabbe frowned at him, and Goyle grunted in agreement.

"I was feeling under the weather." Draco gave a delicate fake cough. "I think I'll go see if I can get a postponement."

"Just catch the Snitch early and you can be sick for the rest of the day." Warrington scowled. "Get your robes on already." Draco sighed, his heart pounding as he changed into his Quidditch robes and gave several hundred silent prayers that he would make it through the match in one piece.

It wasn't _really_ possible that he was under a bad luck potion, after all. Maybe the Felix Feilcis had to get all the bad luck out of his system so it could really work its magic.

Draco desperately wanted to believe that. He led his team out to the pitch, his lips dry as he considered how very much he liked being alive. He wondered why his bad luck didn't cause him to become injured on the way to the field, and felt a dreadful certainty that it was saving up for something fatal.

He considered faking a fainting fit, but then the Gryffindors were there, and Draco couldn't countenance the idea of appearing weak in front of Potter.

_Better than getting my head lopped off by a over-excited Bludger._

He whimpered slightly as the game started, and decided maybe if he just hovered really low, Harry would catch the Snitch, the game would end, and he could go back to figuring a way to fix things. His team kept shooting him looks of confusion as he let his broom lift up just above the ground so his feet brushed the grass below him. He didn't want to fall to his death.

And then the Snitch appeared right in front of him.

_Maybe…maybe it worked after all?_

He couldn't stop himself. He darted forward, and the little golden ball raced away, but he was sure he could catch it. He raced after it with a single-minded determination, suddenly feeling the euphoria that had filled him that morning. Clearly, the potion had worked after all! The Snitch had practically fallen into his lap! If he could just—

Suddenly his world became brilliantly lit up, and he felt as though he'd hit a brick wall. The pain jolted through him, and he heard a loud noise as he began to fall, and then suddenly, everything was black.

----------

"—out of nowhere!"

"Well, these things happen sometimes." Draco heard people debating something as his awareness returned. His entire body felt weirdly numb, although his head felt as though someone had driven a spike into it.

"There wasn't a cloud in the sky!" he recognized Pansy's voice, which sounded vaguely hysterical. "I'm telling you, someone conjured that lightning."

"If you can't be quiet, you'll have to leave!" Madame Pomfrey's voice sounded then, and he slowly opened his eyes, making out the faces of his housemates around him. "Mr. Malfoy is very seriously injured and he needs his rest! He's lucky he didn't die!"

"I think lucky would have been not getting nailed by lightning." Blaise retorted, and turned back to Draco to see his eyes were opening. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh Draco, you're awake!" Pansy hugged him, his nerves tingling like all of his limbs were asleep. "I was so worried!"

"What…happened?" he remembered the Snitch, remembered realizing that he was having good luck after all, but from the way he was feeling right now, it couldn't have been that good.

"It was really weird." Blaise explained. "You were chasing the Snitch, and out of nowhere, you were struck by lightning."

"You fell off your broom." Crabbe elaborated. "Potter got the Snitch."

"Again? Dammit." Draco couldn't help feeling more annoyed that he'd lost fifty galleons to Ginny than terrified at what had happened. At least he hadn't died. Although it did confirm his theory about the effects of his potion, but maybe it would just work its way out of his system if he just stayed in this bed and didn't do anything else dangerous.

"Would you keep out! There's enough people crowding him already!" Madame Pomfrey was telling someone off, and he groaned internally as he realized that Harry Potter had just forced entry to the infirmary, followed by Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley.

_I guess I'm still unlucky._

"He's alive?" Potter shoved his way into the group of Slytherins, looking exceptionally pale. He wondered how close the other Seeker had been when he was hit and went down. He was sure the boy would have had a front row view, considering they'd been chasing the Snitch.

"Disappointed, Potter?" Draco did the best drawl he could manage under the circumstances. He wondered if the lightning had damaged his hair, but didn't want to check it in front of Potter. "I see your fan club is in attendance. Come to poison me?"

"Don't be an ass, Malfoy." Ginny snapped at him. "Harry's been worried! Just because you're an unbearable pain doesn't mean he wants to see you die right in front of him!"

"I'll be sure to try and do that in private, then." Draco sneered. "Come to collect your winnings, Weasley?"

"My winnings?" she shook her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Fifty galleons, you remember." He tilted his head to one side. "That should serve as your dowry, I'm sure it's more money than your family has ever seen. Sadly, I'm not at my best right now or I'd get it for you, but I'll have it sent along directly."

"You…how can you even think about some stupid bet?" Ginny shook her head in disbelief. "You could have died!"

"Come on Harry, he seems well enough if he's talking like that," Hermione pulled Harry back a bit. "Let's go back." He nodded absently, glancing over his shoulder as if to reassure himself that Draco was still really there, and Draco felt himself oddly disquieted by his rival's behavior.

_Why does he care? It'd be his lucky day if I died. He hates my guts._

_And why do I care if he cares?_

"I'm tired." Draco announced, not feeling up to all this coddling and fuss. Much as he normally enjoyed attention being showered on him, this was odd, and he felt oddly preoccupied with the fact that Saint Potter himself had turned up in person just to see if he was okay. "Everyone go. Pansy, could you tell Snape I need to speak to him?"

"Of course, Draco dear." She kissed his cheek as the rest of the Slytherins left, and he sighed heavily after she disappeared as well. Reaching up to touch his hair, he found it felt intact but messy. He would take the small miracles as they came.

"No more visitors! He needs to rest!" Madame Pomfrey intercepted Snape when he arrived, but as was typical of the ill-tempered man, he swept past her without a care for her words.

"Professor," Draco sighed in relief. Snape would save him. After the lightning incident, it had to be clear that something was going on, and if he explained about the potion, surely Snape would want to help. He might be a greasy, mean-tempered old bastard, but he had an odd affection for Draco, and he certainly wouldn't just let him _die_. "Thanks for coming."

"Quite the day for you." Snape's lips were pursed, probably annoyed that he felt concern. It was obvious he had been worried, or he wouldn't have come to the hospital wing at all. He wasn't one for coddling. "How are you feeling?"

"Not great," he admitted, "I need your help with something." He explained what he had done, noting the look of disapproval when he outlined the plan to use the luck enhancing potion to win the Quidditch cup. He hadn't really expected Snape to think it had been a good idea, certainly, but it turned out that Snape's disapproval had nothing to do with the ethics involved.

"Idiot child." He shook his head and sighed heavily when Draco had finished. "I don't care if you want to cheat, but you could have gotten yourself killed trying to brew a potion like that. I know very few wizards who are up to the task and you certainly are not among them."

"Clearly." He was annoyed that he was being scolded, but he would rather have a harsh talking-to than try to deal with this on his own. "So I thought if you had some _actual_ Felix Felicis, I could take that and it would neutralize the effects."

"That sounds reasonable enough, despite the risk of so much poisoning you." Snape considered the problem, his brow furrowing as he approached it from an academic standpoint. "Though we could relieve the effects of an overdose, it would seem reasonable that if your potion caused extreme bad luck for a good luck potion to counter it. There is only one problem. It takes six months to brew Felix Felicis. By then, your bad luck will have likely worn off or you'll be dead."

"Thanks." Draco sighed. Trust Snape not to try and soften the blow. "I was hoping you just had some already brewed."

"I do not." Snape's lips were pursed in irritation again. "I can check and see if Professor Slughorn has any in his stores. I know he makes a batch every year for that idiotic competition he has amongst his sixth years."

"Or maybe…maybe one of the students still has theirs." Draco speculated. "Dumbledore could order them to give it to me."

"I would not take this to Dumbledore." Snape shook his head sharply. "I can excuse your youthful folly, but if we bring the headmaster into it, the consequences for you could be quite grim. Felix Felicis is strictly regulated. Even brewing it requires permission of the Ministry, and its trade is also closely monitored to avoid its use in competitions and the like. In addition, you knowingly attempted to use it to give you a win in Quidditch, which is definitely against the law."

"What, they wouldn't throw me in Azkaban for that, would they?" Draco laughed. "It's not like a national competition or anything." He continued laughing, but the look on Snape's face silenced him. "Really?"

"You'd be lucky to get off on probation." Snape told him. "And right at the moment, you are extremely _unlucky_. I will see if Professor Slughorn has any. If I only knew how you had concocted it…I might be able to think of some other solution. Your mother will be most displeased if you do not live to graduate." Draco realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that if Snape couldn't get any of the potion from Slughorn, he had given him up for dead. "We must be optimistic, however. If Horace has none, I'll begin brewing a batch at once. If you can be careful, you might live to see its completion. You must continue attending class as though everything is normal, and hope for the best."

Draco had never felt before that it took any particular luck or skill to stay alive. Now he realized that it would take every bit of luck he'd just lost to make it to the end of the week, much less until a time six months in the future. He felt like crying. He was too _young_ and beautiful to die! Not to mention rich and popular! How could this happen to him? After Snape left, he fell asleep, hoping that he'd wake to find that this had all been a dream. If he had it to do over…even if it meant he'd lose, he would never try using the potion to beat Potter. It might be a blow to his pride, but at least he'd live.

----------

Draco stared at his oatmeal, feeling like a condemned man. He wasn't sure he even wanted to eat the goopy stuff, but he was afraid he'd choke on anything more challenging. Pansy kept asking him if he was still feeling off because of his injury, and he told her yes just to make her stop asking him, but now she felt the need to accompany him everywhere and ask after his health almost constantly. He should have seen how his luck would have that situation turn out.

Snape had started work on the potion, advising him that Slughorn didn't have any in reserve, and Draco wished momentarily that his professor had more encouraging words to offer him besides "Don't die." It was amazing how he had never really appreciated how wonderful life was before. On his way to breakfast, he had fallen down the stairs, and only the appearance of a group of Hufflepuff first years had cushioned his fall and stopped him from breaking his neck. And the day had only just begun. He had stayed in bed all weekend, afraid of what dangers might confront him on the grounds, and now that he was being made to go to class, he felt rather sure that he wouldn't make it through the day.

He looked across the hall and saw Potter, who had gotten over his concern for Draco rather swiftly, and was now back to hanging around with his friends and laughing, never appreciating how easy things were for him, and how he was eternally making things difficult for Draco. He was sure that if it weren't for Potter's inexplicable skill at Quidditch, none of this would have happened, so he felt rather determined to blame his rival for the whole thing, rather than his own "youthful hubris and idiocy" as Snape had suggested as the root of this dilemma.

At that moment, he realized that the solution was right in front of him. If Potter still had the potion he'd won the year before from Slughorn, Draco could buy it off of him and be done with this whole thing. Of course…he couldn't explain everything, because if he did, he would probably end up in prison, as Snape had speculated. Potter was too good and justice-filled to be okay with the fact that Draco had broken several laws. He would feel obligated to tell on him, and Draco would be spending quality time with the Dementors before you could say "bad luck." And if Harry wouldn't sell it to him, he could get some off the person who'd won it that year. He was sure he could find out just by asking Slughorn. That man was an insufferable braggart.

He waited until he saw Potter head off to class, and he got to his feet, annoyed that Pansy persisted on hanging off his arm. "Pansy," he turned to her. "I forgot my bag in the common room. Could you fetch it for me and meet me in class?"

"Of course!" Pansy could never resist the lure of winning favor with him, and trotted off at once. Too easy. Draco rushed forward to catch up with Harry, who was still surrounded by his doe-eyed followers.

"Potter," Draco knew not to rely on luck to bring them a moment alone, so he simply grabbed the other man by the arm. "I have business to transact with you."

"What are you talking about?" Harry scowled at him as Draco pulled him away from his friends and into an empty classroom. "What do you want?"

"I ran into a spot of trouble." Draco invented, wanting to play on Potter's sympathies, but not wanting to risk time in prison by telling him the truth. "I was bitten by a mackled malaclaw, and am suffering from extremely bad luck. Pomfrey tells me the effects should wear off in a week, but I find myself unable to deal with the inconvenience of it. I was wondering if you still have the Felix Felicis that Slughorn gave you last year."

"Uh…I think so." Harry hadn't thought of the potion since he'd won it, being distracted by the rest of his life. He hadn't thought of a good time to use it since winning it. "But I'm not giving it to you. How did you even get bitten by a malaclaw? Don't those live by the ocean?"

"Hagrid got some, and they got loose in the grounds." Draco felt foolish as soon as he said it. Of course Harry could easily check the truth of this by asking Hagrid, who he was good friends with. His luck wouldn't even let him come up with a good lie! "Or something. I don't know, I just know that's what happened, and it could be dangerous if I don't get rid of the bad luck! Don't you remember what happened on Saturday?"

"Well…how do I know you aren't just making this up so you can use the potion to do something really horrible?" Harry asked, clearly hesitant to trust Draco, but also hesitant to just give the potion over.

"You don't have to believe me, I'll pay you for the potion." Draco sighed in annoyance. "How much do you want?"

"If you're really in danger, why doesn't Dumbledore do something about it?" Harry was clearly finding more and more reasons to doubt Draco the longer he thought about it. "I mean…if you're coming to me and asking to buy it, it doesn't sound like you're in danger at all. It sounds like you're up to no good."

"Or I'm _desperate_." Draco insisted. "What do you want? I can pay you any amount." He felt rather confident saying that considering Harry was a Gryffindor, and therefore poor, and therefore unable to conceive of large amounts of money.

"What do you have planned? Are you going to sneak a bunch of Death Eaters into Hogwarts? Or try to kill me or Dumbledore? Or both of us?" Harry leaned forward, his eyes narrowing further.

"Why can't I just be nervous about a Herbology exam?" Draco threw up his hands. "Since when are you naïve Gryffindors suspicious of everything? Look, I have a hundred galleons in my bedroom, and I can send off for more if you want. Just give me the bloody potion!"

"No way." Harry shook his head. "You're always up to something evil. I'm not giving you something that could make whatever foul trick you're planning easier."

"Fine! If I fall off the Astronomy tower or get eaten by the giant squid, it'll be on your conscience!" Draco turned to leave, giving up Potter as a bad job. Clearly he wouldn't do anything to help, which was rather ironic considered his irritating saving-people complex.

_I guess that only applies to non-Slytherins._

"Wait!" Harry grabbed his arm, and Draco stumbled, nearly falling against a desk, but Harry's grip caused him to twist away, and they both fell in a heap of limbs. "Ow."

"I told you I have bad luck." Draco mumbled grumpily. "No one ever believes me. Just because of a few times—"

"You've played so many tricks on me I've lost count!" Harry protested, pushing him so that he was on top of the blonde. "How can you even be surprised that I'd be suspicious!"

"Like I said, a _few_ times." Draco finished. "So will you give me the potion?"

"I know you're lying. Like I can't tell after seeing you do it so many times." Harry hedged, crossing his arms as he sat on Draco thinking. It occurred to Draco to tell him to get off him already, and at that moment, his mind chose to remind him of Blaise's theory concerning his rival. He _was_ a bit fetching, Draco supposed, if you ignored all the pompous self-righteousness and the fact that his hair clearly didn't know what a comb was. Although it _did _look a bit like he'd just finished a good snog, and his eyes were rather nice, come to that.

_Stop it stop it stop it!_

"Get off me!" Draco shoved the other roughly away, and Harry blinked at him in surprise. Clearly he hadn't seen anything inappropriate about the situation, but Draco seriously doubted that someone as naïve and innocent as Harry would have thought anything was out of the ordinary if they had both been naked and coated in oil, grinding against each other like…

_Please don't picture that…too late._

"What's wrong with you, Malfoy?" Harry frowned at him. "If you want my help, try being a little nicer. You know, we don't _have_ to be at each others' throats all the time."

"You started that," Draco stood up, brushing himself off. "Don't act as if I'm dragging you down to my level."

"You're the one who's always—"

"No!" Draco cut him off, feeling unaccountably agitated. "I offered to be your friend, if you recall. You're the one who decided you were too good for that." Harry looked oddly contrite, and licked his lips after thinking this over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really…I guess I forgot about that." Harry shrugged, and Draco felt more annoyed, if anything. Harry had forgotten rejecting him like that? How could he? They'd been enemies since that moment, and Harry couldn't even trouble himself to remember that? It was like he was beneath his notice, like he didn't even care what Draco thought or felt or anything!

_Who cares! I don't care about him, so it doesn't matter if he doesn't care about me._

"It doesn't matter," Draco told him, his tone icy and detached. The offhand apology had stung more deeply than any other insult Harry had ever hurled at him even in their most heated arguments. "That was years ago, anyway."

"I guess I always thought that we became enemies when we met in the robe shop." Harry went on, looking thoughtful. Draco blinked at him in surprise and he went on. "Because you said all those things about Hagrid, and about different houses and stuff…and then I got into Gryffindor and you were in Slytherin so it just seemed like...I guess yours makes sense too. But like you said, that was years ago. We're nearly out of school, we should be able to act like adults."

"Well…in any case." Draco didn't know why he felt so pleased that Harry had obviously thought about this quite a bit as well.

_I don't care what he thinks!_

_As long as he thinks about me…_

"So…so just let me think it over, okay?" Harry asked him. "I just don't really feel like I can trust you."

"Understood." Draco left the classroom feeling extremely pleased with himself, and trying very hard not to think about that too much.

----------

"And I'm just not sure I should help him—"

"Absolutely not." Hermione cut Harry's explanation off. "He's lying. If he was really in danger from a malaclaw injury, he'd be in the hospital wing still. If he's well enough to walk around the school, he doesn't need any liquid luck, and I shudder to think of what he'd get up to if he had some."

"I know, that's what I thought." Harry sighed, not sure whether or not he was relieved to have Hermione confirm his suspicions. "And I asked Hagrid, and he says that he hasn't had any malaclaws."

"Which just confirms they aren't that dangerous." Hermione shook her head. "If they could really cause something like that lightning strike, Hagrid would have a whole flock of them…or whatever a group of them would be called…" she seemed to be drifting off into study mode, so Harry spoke up again.

"But still…I mean, that was really scary." Harry told her. "When he just…out of nowhere! I really thought he was dead when I landed…he was all burnt looking, and he wasn't even breathing."

"Well, if it's magically created bad luck instead of the universe just deciding to knock Malfoy off his high-horse, it would have to be caused by something a lot more dangerous than a malaclaw." Hermione looked thoughtful again. "I wonder if there's some sort of bad luck curse or something. I mean, if there's a potion for good luck, there might be some way of causing really bad luck…it'd probably be dark magic if it was that effective, though. And if he's really cursed luck so bad it can cause him to get hit by lightning on a cloudless day, why hasn't he died?"

"He said he fell down the stairs a bit this morning." Harry added helpfully. "And he fell when we were talking. He almost cracked his head open."

"Almost." Hermione made a skeptical face. "He could just be having some normal problems with motor functions as a side effect of the lightning. Or maybe he's just clumsy."

"Malfoy's not clumsy. We've known him forever, he's never been clumsy." Harry argued. "He's always totally in control. He certainly doesn't just fall over at random."

"He could have taken a fall just to convince you to help him." Hermione pointed out. "You can't resist someone in distress, Harry, you never could. He knows you at least as well as you know him, you've been watching each other for years."

"He wouldn't risk marring his face or cracking his head open just to get my help. He's too vain and too concerned with his own well being." Harry told her doubtfully, and she made an odd choking noise as she tried to hold in the sudden urge to laugh. She had heard about the rumors that Harry and Draco were having some sort of weird secret romance, but she usually just discounted them as gossip. Sometimes, though…

"So, you think he really needs the potion?" Hermione arched an eyebrow, and Harry shrugged. "Look, if you really think he needs it, just give it to him. But I really don't think it's a good idea. He's done some pretty nasty things in the past, and fall down the stairs or not, I have serious doubts about giving him something that can help him get what he wants, even if it only lasts a day. Imagine one day where everything went the way Draco Malfoy wanted. _You_ could end up dead. We all could. Is that something you want to risk?"

"No…but I don't want to be responsible for his death, either." Harry frowned, clearly torn, and Hermione took pity on him.

"Look, I'll sneak into the Restricted Section and see if there's any sort of dark magic that could cause what he _claims_ to be experiencing." She told him. "And if it will make you feel better, we could test it."

"Test it how?" Harry asked, and she shrugged.

"Come up with a simple test of luck. Have him guess numbers or flip a coin or play a simple card game with him, something that relies totally on luck. If he fails over and over, he's either having really bad luck, or he's having really good luck and trying to trick you." Hermione explained. "And you're usually really good at reading people, so I think you'd be able to tell if he's tricking you. Anyway, if he already had such good luck, I don't see what he'd want with the Felix Felicis."

"That's a good point." Harry considered. "That sounds good, I'll try that. I don't want to just ignore him…I mean, he was acting a little weird."

"Weird?" Hermione asked. "Like, asking you for help in the first place isn't really strange from him."

"No…I don't know, it was just…" Harry shook his head. "It seemed like he kept staring at me, like…I don't know. That's stupid. He was probably just thinking I'd pull out my wand and curse him silly."

"Maybe." Hermione coughed to cover the laugh that sprung to her lips at that. She had always assumed if there _was_ anything there, they would just continue to be oblivious to it. She had figured that Harry would probably end up with Ginny, although she wasn't sure about that now that Ginny seemed to be over him, ever since he had briefly dated her and then decided he was putting her at risk by caring about her. However, if Draco really did have some sort of fixation on Harry…if Harry was receptive and became aware of it, who knew what would happen? And on top of all that, despite his concerns that dating Ginny would make Ron furious, especially after him breaking up with her last year, Harry seemed to have now found the one possibility that could possibly make Ron even more furious than that. Or maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe she was just jumping at romantic shadows, since Valentine's Day was coming up. "Anyway, I'll just go to the library tonight if you'll lend me your cloak and tell you what I find tomorrow."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry sounded relieved. "And…could you not tell Ron about this?" She blinked at him in surprise. Had he read her mind? _Was _there something more going on between Draco and him?

"Um…" she didn't know quite what to say.

"Only, you know he'd just want us to leave Malfoy to whatever's going on." Harry elaborated, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. "He doesn't really want him _dead_, I know, but if we told him, I don't think he'd want us helping Malfoy out."

"Oh…yes, right." Hermione nodded and left. She really needed to spend less time around Lavender and Parvati. Sometimes people just helped people because it was the right thing to do. There didn't have to be something deeper going on.

----------

"Watch out!" Ginny shoved Draco to the ground as she saw Peeves fling a marble bust through the air straight at his head. "Didn't you see that?" she had to admit that she felt a certain kinship with Draco. Perhaps that was because they were both fooling around with Blaise on occasion, but it might be something else. She just felt that even if he was a selfish git, she understood him to a certain extent. And he'd been acting odd lately. "You've been so out of it lately."

"Thanks." He gave her a grim smile as he looked at the ground where the bust had hit and cracked partially. "I don't think paying attention is the problem, though."

"What, did you piss Peeves off somehow?" she asked as they both headed toward the Great Hall.

"No, I just…had a bit of trouble." He decided it was better not to try lying to Ginny Weasley. She was amazingly astute, and probably at least as good at catching him in a lie as Harry. "Just suffice it to say I'm having a spot of bad luck. Like deadly bad."

"Right," Ginny snorted and shook her head. "I love when you're melodramatic like that."

"Actually, maybe you could help me." Draco would not call Ginny a friend. He would probably feel fine calling her an associate. "I have this…curse on me, so I have bad luck, and Snape says the only cure is something equally lucky, so he's brewing me some Felix Felicis. But if you get Harry to give me his, I'll pay Harry _and_ I'll give you the batch Snape makes me when it's ready. It'll be months from now, but I thought you might need it for something…" he let the sentence trail off enticingly and she snorted.

"Please, I don't need luck to get with Harry. I need luck to _stay_ with him." She frowned slightly. "So if there's a curse on you that strong, why isn't Dumbledore doing anything?"

"I…I'd rather not say." Draco managed diplomatically, and she snickered.

"Okay, whatever you did, I'm betting it was illegal. Idiot." She shook her head as he tried not to gape at her. He was lucky Harry wasn't this clever or he'd already be on his way to Azkaban. "Fine, don't tell me."

"Do…do you believe me?" he asked, amazed that he might be able to employ her help.

"Possibly." She shrugged. "Look, I can sneak into his room and find the potion and steal it for you. But you'll need to do _me_ a favor."

"But…I said I'd pay him. Can't you just get him to give it to me?" Draco was dumbfounded. "Isn't he in love with you or something? You must be able to exert control over him."

"My life would be a lot simpler if Harry and I were in love, but we're not." Ginny told him tersely. "In fact, I don't think he really is in love with me…I think he's just confused."

"You…you're in love with Bl—"

"Don't you dare say it." Ginny clapped her hand over his mouth, looking around as though she thought someone else in the empty corridor would hear his words. "Okay, I think we understand each other. Anyway, like I said, I'll steal it for you. _If_ you do me a favor."

"There is no way I can get Blaise to agree to—"

"I will seriously hex you into next week." Ginny clapped her hand back over his mouth again. "And _no_, that's not what I was going to ask you, you prize git. I'm perfectly capable of handling my own problems. However…if I'm going to have a chance with _that_, I'm going to need Ron to be distracted. Like _really_ distracted. As in, completely unaware of what I'm doing. If he figures out that I'm dating _that person_, he'll go ballistic, and there's only _one_ person who could possibly keep him calm and stop him from going on a Slytherin killing spree."

"What are you asking me for?" Draco was not sure he was following Ginny's logic, but he was pretty sure she was right that Ron would have a fit if she could somehow get Blaise to date her, although she couldn't imagine that anything she could plan as a distraction could be quite so difficult as getting Blaise to settle down. "Look, if you want me to stop fooling around with Blaise, I'll do it if that will get you to—"

"Obviously, but that's not what I'm asking you." She told him impatiently. "He'll stop that if I can get him to…well, that's neither here nor there." She shook her head and went on. "I'm sure you've realized that there's a lot of unresolved tension between Ron and Hermione. If I can get them together, he'll be totally absorbed with her, and besides that, she already knows about my own…plans, so she can help me once he does find out. Keep him from killing anyone, I mean. So that's what I want to do."

"You want me to…" Draco made a face like he had been force fed a lemon. "Oh…gross. That's disgusting. That would possibly be the most horrible couple ever."

"Shut up. Are you in, or not?" Ginny arched a crimson eyebrow. "I figure that now's the best time, anyway. Valentine's Day is on Saturday, it's their seventh year, and Ron hasn't gotten good and snogged for ages. He's got to be feeling deprived now."

"How would I even be able to help?" Draco asked, pulling an extremely pouty face. "They both despise me and everything I stand for. And they're both hideously—"

"Just stop." Ginny held up a finger in warning. "Look, you're the one with all the cunning plans. _You_ figure something out. It's nothing to me if you can't get it done, I can keep trying on my own. I'm just trying to conduct a fair trade here. You want to stop having rotten luck, I want to be able to get on with my life the way I see fit."

"I don't see why it isn't enough if I just agree to leave Blaise alone." Draco frowned. "Without access to him, I'll have to live out the rest my school days in celibacy. I'm not like you, I can't be satisfied with someone run of the mill…I need someone exceptional."

"I think we're _both _after exceptional people." Ginny told him with a sharpness in her tone that made it clear she was not amused with his whining. He blinked at her in confusion and she snorted slightly. "Besides, don't you think that if you help his two best friends get together Harry will be a little more…sympathetic to you?"

"What are you even…oh, not you, too!" Draco huffed and stormed away, and Ginny rolled her eyes. What an utter child.

----------

"Pansy, I need your help with an important project." Draco had been annoyed with Ginny Weasley for about fifteen minutes, then he'd felt a bit odd as he tried to think about why so many people seemed to think that there was something between Potter and him when there clearly _wasn't_, and now it was time for dessert and he had decided that even if his motivations weren't precisely what _she_ thought they were, he would go along with Ginny's plan. It was clear that Harry was far too suspicious of him to actually decide to give him the potion, or even to sell it to him. You would think he'd be sick of being so good and so _poor_. "But you mustn't tell anyone what we're doing, and you must not question me. Just rest assured that it is all part of a greater plan to…er, bring me great glory. Yes, glory."

"Interesting." She eyed him with guarded excitement as she meticulously picked apart the segments of her salad. Pansy had declared she was on a diet, which meant that she would have a salad, of which she wouldn't eat more than a few bites, and spend the rest of the meal playing with all the vegetables she didn't want. Draco was sure this would help her lose weight if she didn't then smuggle half a dozen cookies back to her room and eat those instead. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need your help brainstorming." He gave her his most winning smile, and she melted at once. "You see, part of this plan—which is very complex with many parts that fit together in a way far too complicated for you to possibly comprehend how any one piece fits into the whole—is for us to somehow make Weasley and Granger become a couple."

"I don't think Ginny swings that way." Pansy split open a snow pea and tore out the small beans inside without even glancing up at him. "So that could be difficult."

"Not _that_ Weasley." Draco leaned in, as though saying the name was anathema and he was trying to lessen its effect. "I mean…Ron."

"Oh." Pansy paused, made a face, and pushed her salad away. "That is disgusting. Is this plan going to lead to everyone vomiting from an overdose of goody-goody wholesome love? And is this is any way going to interfere with our dinner on Saturday?"

"I told you not to question me." Draco scowled. Crabbe and Goyle were good at not questioning things, but they were sadly lacking at being able to think of clever plans. "Just help me with this. Trust me, this plan is integral to my glory. And your happiness." He added. Technically, he was sure she would be unhappy if he died because a poltergeist lobbed him in the head with a chunk of marble, so he was pretty sure that wasn't even a lie. Not really. If she chose to think it was more than that…that was her fault.

"Oh, Draco," she leaned in, clearly wanting a kiss, and Draco let out a long suffering sigh, trying to dodge her lips. Of course, with his luck running the way it was, she anticipated his evasion and caught him. Oh well, perhaps giving her a kiss would convince her to help him, and his troubles could soon be over and done with.

"Yes, yes," he pushed her away when she started to get grabby, and straightened up his robes and hair, glancing across the Great Hall to see if Potter had noticed him kissing her. Then he realized what he was doing and decided very firmly that he hoped Potter _had_ noticed so that he knew not to get any funny ideas about the two of them. "Very good. Now, this could be difficult. They are possibly the two least appealing, most disgustingly kind-hearted Gryffindors I have ever met."

"Except Harry Potter." She added, and he blinked at her.

"Oh…yes, well of course." He cleared his throat and went on. "That goes without saying. In any case, we will have to stretch our minds to the limit of their endurance. Just the thought of the two of them…together…I may break out in hives."

"I have to say, Draco, I'm really not sure how those two being together could have any positive results for us, but…you said it's complex, so I'll go along with it for now." She shrugged and frowned down at her salad. "I've lost my appetite now. I don't think I'll ever recover it."

"Yes, it is hard work we do." Draco assured her. "We should both do reconnaissance and then reconvene tomorrow evening to share our ideas. It is _imperative _that we do this as quickly as possible. If it helps, imagine that my very livelihood depends on those two…urgh."

"I really don't see how anyone's life could depend on those two getting together." Pansy smirked slightly as she looked across the hall at them. "It shouldn't be too hard, though. They've been dancing around each other for years like two dogs in heat. All we have to do is make them face their feelings. You would think they would already be together. After he dated Brown last year, she became furious. Talk about obvious."

"Weasley's had a girlfriend?" Draco pulled a rather disgusted face. "I will never be able to look at Lavender Brown the same way again."

"How did you not notice?" Pansy shook her head, giggling. "You're always following those three around, taking all those notes, coming up with those plans to bring Potter down. How did you miss _that_?"

"It's really Potter I'm following." Draco answered without thinking, and then felt his eyes go wide. However, Pansy didn't seem to notice anything and was back to picking at her salad. He felt like he needed to be alone at the moment, and he rushed out, ignoring her voice calling after him.

Was this because of the potion? Why did he keep having all these…unnatural ideas? Not that he had a problem with being with another man. Obviously he'd been fine with that for ages, even if he hadn't _quite_ decided how to break the news to his parents. But…Harry Potter? No. That was out of the question. They were just…too different! They could never…never…

He was disgustingly nice to _everyone_, and yet he singled Draco out as a focus of his enmity, when Draco had never done anything to him. And his hair was a mess, and he just _threw_ his clothes on like he was racing to finish getting ready or trying to look as sloppy as humanly possible, and he smelled…well, he smelled rather nice, actually. A bit like fresh cut grass and bar soap. And okay, so Draco _might_ have instigated one or two of their confrontations, but that was just because he liked getting under Potter's skin, and besides that, he looked so amazing when he was angry, his eyes like emerald flames and his cheeks flushed almost as if—

_No! What is wrong with me? This _has_ to be some weird effect of the potion. I do not find Harry Potter attractive, even with his shirt off, thank you very much for implanting that image in my brain, Blaise! And I would never want to date him, much less kiss him, and I don't think he smells nice, and I don't want to know what it would be like if we were on the same side instead of always butting heads, and I don't think his messy hair is sexy _at all_, and if I have one more weird thought, I'm going to just throw myself off the astronomy tower before this potion gives me the worst luck _ever_ and forces me to snog Harry Potter!_

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the grounds. It was twilight, and the air was brisk. It was refreshing, and though he _was _a bit worried he might get struck by lightning or have a flagstone fall on his head, it was calming in its own way just to be outside. He pressed cool palms to his closed eyes, trying to wipe those thoughts from his mind and walking down to the lake, wondering if maybe the squid really would kill him. The way his day was going, it would almost be a relief.

"Hey!" he turned at the sound of a voice and someone clomping after him loudly, and nearly shrieked when he saw Harry running towards him.

"Potter!" he recovered himself as best he could, glad there wasn't much light so that Harry would be unlikely to notice the flush on his cheeks. "What do you want with me?"

"You're the one who wants my help." Harry reminded him. "I saw you rush out of there, and I'd been meaning to talk to you. I wanted to check your luck."

"How? Throw me in the lake and see if I make it back?" Draco speculated in a wry tone.

"No, it doesn't have to be anything life threatening, you git." Harry shook his head in annoyance. "It was Hermione's idea. I have this coin, and we'll flip it and see if you can guess. If you never can, you're either really unlucky, or really lucky and a really good actor. See?"

"That's idiotic." Draco decided not to mention that he'd done exactly the same thing when he'd begun to suspect the potion had gone wrong. "Look, I don't need—" he stopped himself and became suddenly thoughtful. It was true that with Ginny's help, he wouldn't need to convince Harry of _anything,_ but then again, the task she had set him seemed rather impossibly horrible, so maybe it was better to try both avenues and see which would get him to his goal faster. There seemed no harm in that. And much as it galled him to perform like some monkey for Potter's satisfaction, he also did not relish the idea of somehow playing matchmaker to Granger and the Weasel. It was a hopeless situation, and he'd simply have to swallow his pride or jump into the lake right now.

"What?" Harry blinked at him in confusion. "I thought you said you needed the potion?"

"I…I do." Draco coughed, covering himself. "I do need it, but I don't need you forcing me into your demeaning little tests. You saw me struck by lightning. What more proof do you need?"

"I…I did," Even in the dark, it was clear that Harry had paled a bit at that, and Draco felt an odd twinge. Why did it affect him to know that Harry didn't want him to die? Harry was the patron saint of happy endings, he didn't want _anyone_ to die. He probably thought Voldemort could just see the error of his ways and move to the Caribbean. "I'm sorry…but Hermione thought it was a good idea. I mean…I want to believe you…but you've done things so many times…I just don't know…"

"Okay, Merlin, don't hurt yourself!" Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's go inside, we can't see anything out here."

"Oh…okay." Harry licked his lips and they went back inside in silence. At this point, most of the students were still eating, so the halls were rather quiet, but even so, Draco couldn't help feeling like people would see them walking together, and would wonder what they were doing, since they clearly weren't fighting at the moment. Of course, if so many people harbored suspicions about his relationship with Potter, only one possible solution presented itself, but then again, why else would a Slytherin and a Gryffindor be walking down the hall like this, as if they were friends.

_This is what it would have been like if he had accepted me._

Draco couldn't help the twinge in his chest at that. It galled him to think that Harry had chosen Ron Weasley over him, but just having someone reject his offer of friendship…he really never had gotten over that day. Although now he was starting to see that it hadn't seemed so monumental to Harry at all. To him…he had measured their relationship from that meeting in the robe shop. Thinking back on that day, Draco remembered some of the things he had said, and while he didn't really want to say he was _sorry_, he could see how it would have had a negative impression on Harry. He had wanted to impress this boy, and he had ended up alienating him. Before he offered his friendship to Harry, he had guaranteed that it would be rejected.

_I made of an ass of myself, and I can't stop blaming him. But here he is, wanting to look past all that, wanting to help me out. I should have been lucky enough to have a friend like him._

"Where should we do it?" Harry asked, and Draco nearly leapt a foot in the air. Then Harry held up a sickle, and he nearly laughed with relief. Of course…the coin. That was what he wanted to do. "How about in the library?"

"Pince wouldn't really appreciate us making all those deafening coin flipping noises." Draco joked, and he was shocked when Harry laughed and he felt an odd thrill at the sound. It wasn't like he'd never heard Harry Potter laugh before, but somehow…knowing he caused it was different. "What about in a classroom?"

"Don't people usually use those for snogging this time of night?" Harry joked, and Draco forced an uneasy laugh. "Well, I guess no one will ask what we're doing with the coin, then."

"No one would think…" Draco stopped himself and lowered his head, not wanting Harry to see that his cheeks were absolutely burning. "You have Ginny. The two of you are going to make tons of tiny Weasels."

"That's probably what everyone thinks." Harry laughed harshly.

"Isn't that…" Draco didn't know why he was even bringing this up. He peered into the room Blaise and he used to meet in and pushed inside after seeing it was empty. "I mean, you and her seemed…"

"I know how it seemed." Harry sighed heavily. "But she's not…look, this isn't what we're here for." He told Draco in a voice that was sharper than he meant it to be. "What happened between Ginny and me is our business, not yours."

"I notice the past tense there." Draco leaned against a desk lazily as Harry went to the front of the room and found some parchment, ink and quill.

"We should track the results, just to see…I'm sure Hermione would know how many times you should guess right, statistically, but I have no clue." Harry was clearly agitated. He was staring at the parchment and carefully making a table labeled simply "right" and "wrong." He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more, and Draco's fingers twitched as though he wanted to fix it.

_Like anything could save that hair._

_Maybe I just want to feel it._

_Stop that. Now._

"Did you find out about her torrid affair with Blaise Zabini? Because I think she's been sneaking around with a few other guys, but that's the only one I know for sure." Draco shrugged nonchalantly, unable to stop himself even if he wanted to. He had focused so much on finding ways to get under Harry's skin for the past seven years, he wasn't going to stop now that he'd found something that was clearly bothering him.

"Malfoy, I don't want to talk about that." Harry told him in a very steady voice, and Draco felt giddy. He could hear the anger under that tone, just waiting to burst free, and he knew it would be easy to make him snap. He was good at getting Harry's attention this way, and what was more, it was the only way he felt comfortable doing it. "Call it." Harry flipped the coin with jerky, barely controlled movements, and Draco chuckled.

"Heads." He guessed, unsurprised when Harry looked at the coin and put a tick mark in the "wrong" column. "I don't see why you're getting so worked up over it. You were dating her, and you ended it. If she decides to sleep around a little to get over it, that's her prerogative."

"Malfoy." Harry hissed, looking up at him, those sparks in his eyes that Draco was always hoping to create, and he reached into his sleeve, ready for Harry to pull out his wand and try to hex him. "Call." He flipped the coin instead, and Draco was momentarily surprised.

"Heads." Draco was wrong again, and he pressed his advantage. "Which part bothers you more? That you thought you could protect her by breaking up with her and now she's trying to date a Slytherin who'll probably become a Death Eater in four months, or that she's over you and you're still hung up on her?"

"Malfoy!" Harry leapt to his feet, and Draco had his wand out at once, ready to defend himself, but Harry just stood there, his entire body trembling with barely restrained rage, his eyes blazing. Draco could feel his stomach give a pleasurable flip, and he almost laughed aloud. Even with rotten luck, he could still get a rise out of Potter. "Why do you keep pushing me like this? I thought you wanted my help? Can't you stop being a pain in the ass for five minutes and just…just…it's none of your business!"

"I was just interested." Draco shrugged. "Pansy was telling me about how your friend Weasley dated Brown last year, and I realize that I've been sadly inattentive to the goings-on in the school. I'm just showing a healthy interest in the lives of my classmates."

"What, are you upset because you want Blaise for yourself?" Harry snapped at him, still clearly furious, and Draco gasped. How did Harry knew he was snogging Blaise? "Well, for all I care you two can have each other! You're both so completely shallow and self-absorbed. Ginny deserves someone better than that, and Blaise won't ever treat her—"

"If you're still in love with her, why don't you just tell her?" Draco cut in, and Harry deflated. "What? Isn't that it?"

"It's not…it's not like that." Harry sighed heavily. "I probably could have…I mean, I think I really could have fallen in love with her. She's smart and funny, and she's really great at everything she does, and she even likes Quidditch! And I wasn't afraid to talk to her like I was with Cho…but I think that ship has sailed, and I just have to make do with what I have left."

"A nasty scar and a legendary vendetta against the Dark Lord?" Draco guessed, and Harry let out a mirthless laugh.

"Forget I even tried to say anything to you." Harry shook his head and picked up the coin. "Call."

"Tails." Wrong again. Draco felt oddly contrite at making Harry explode like that and then draining him so completely, which was funny, since that was exactly what he always tried to do. For ten minutes, they went on, the only conversation between them being when Draco called the coin flips, wrong every single time. It was almost eerie, but he was used to it at this point, and it was much nicer than having statues pitched at him.

As if on cue, the desk he'd been leaning on slid back, and Draco fell down flat on his back, his head cracking hard against the ground so that he saw stars. And then he saw Harry hovering over him.

"What is it with you lately?" Harry asked, but Draco assumed that was a rhetorical question, so he didn't say anything as Harry lifted his head checking with careful fingers for any wounds. "There's a bump. I think if you have a concussion that your eyes can't track and you feel nauseous." He speculated and held his finger in front of Draco's face, moving it back and forth before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Follow it with your eyes, asshole."

"I'm injured and you keep calling me names." Draco pouted and followed the finger with his eyes until Harry was satisfied.

"Well…you're not bleeding, and I don't think you have a concussion. Should we carry on?" Harry asked, and Draco blinked at him slowly. He was on the floor with Harry again, and this time Harry was holding him up, nearly cradling him. How did they end up in these positions?

_That's right…the bad luck._

_It's horrible, it's making his eyes look so…so deep. He does smell nice, after all._

_I'll assume that's the concussion talking. I knew Potter was crap at first aid. Or maybe I'm just confused because I usually come in this room to get off. Maybe I should have chosen a classroom with less sexy memories. Like the Potions dungeon. Doesn't get much less sexy than that._

"Draco?" Harry prompted, and Draco realized he'd been carrying on his internal debate for some time now, enough time to concern the other young man. "If you aren't feeling well, I could take you to the hospital wing."

"I feel…fine." He managed. "A little light-headed."

"Can you get up?" Harry asked, moving to help him, and Draco rose, trying desperately not to pay attention to the way his heart was racing a thousand miles a minute. He was also very carefully not thinking about why it was that even Blaise had never made his heart race like that, and Harry wasn't even kissing him, he was just…just near him.

_Has it always been like this? How did I never notice the effect he has on me before?_

_Definitely a concussion._

"You're hot," Harry's hand was on his cheek, and Draco's eyes went wide. "I mean…your face. Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Harry put his other hand on his own face to compare, and Draco concentrated on not finding the gesture adorable. It was idiotic. And he was definitely _not_ turning his face into Harry's palm. He would not ever do that. It was clearly some weird, previously unnoticed nervous tic.

_The brain damage is worse than I feared._

His lips were on Harry's palm, and his eyes were closed, because this _was not happening_. He heard the gasp as his lips moved gently, kissing the hand, and his eyes opened, glancing over to see Harry Potter, his hand still on Draco's mouth, completely frozen, his mouth slightly ajar, and his cheeks brilliantly red. And then, some small part of Draco realized that it was really too late to laugh it off, that there was really no point in pretending it was a joke, because they both knew it wasn't, and if he was going to make a complete ass of himself…well, he never did believe in doing things halfway, and he might as well just satisfy his curiosity before he was cursed into oblivion.

_Damn luck potion. I will swear you made me do it, as no sane man would ever, ever want to know what Harry Potter tastes like._

He had barely realized he was going to do it before he swept the other man's arm aside and lunged forward, tilting his head and pressing his lips to Harry's. It was hard to say what he expected to happen, because he would have never expected before this moment that he ever would kiss Harry Potter. He didn't expect it to happen, and he didn't expect him to be so warm and sweet. He didn't expect his hands to clutch at him like he was drowning, and he didn't expect Harry's fingers to brush over his neck in a trembling, feathery soft touch. If asked what he might expect, he would expect Harry to push him away, so after so many surprises, it was almost welcome.

"Why…you…" Harry's fingers were on his reddened lips, his eyes bewildered, his cheeks still flushed.

_I want to kiss him again. What the hell is wrong with me? This potion is ruining my whole life._

"I think…I'm losing my mind." Draco stumbled back and almost fell over again. "I…I need to go…lie down or something." He positively fled, not really able to make himself think of what Harry must be thinking, not really _wanting_ to think about that.

_Did he like it? He pushed me away…but only after a while…and the way he touched my neck like that…_

He shivered, ghosting his hand over the spot where he could still feel the phantom trails of Harry's touch scorched into his skin. It was interesting, it wasn't like that was the first time Harry Potter had ever touched him, but it was definitely the first time it had meant something…more, and the effect had been alarmingly clear.

_Either this potion is seriously messing with my mind or I was oblivious to this for years. I've never been so…affected. Blaise has kissed me hundreds of times, and Pansy's kissed me, but neither of them come anywhere close to how that felt…and he wasn't even kissing me back._

And then he couldn't help imagining, what if Harry did kiss him? He could feel his insides boiling with the heat that overwhelmed him as images and scenarios flashed through his mind. He'd done enough with Blaise to have a pretty good idea of the things they could do together…

_But it's pointless to think about…he didn't…he couldn't have wanted that. He was surprised, but that's it._

Draco realized that after that, there was no way Harry would help him with anything. He'd have to concentrate on the plan with Granger and Weasley so that Ginny would steal the potion for him.

_If I wasn't suffering from intensely bad luck, I'd try to sneak in there and steal it myself, but I'm pretty sure I'd get caught or killed or both._

But if things kept going the way they were…he might just try that. He was probably going to impale himself on a shower head or something equally stupid anyway. Might as well do it trying to save himself.

_If Potter knew that I could die without that potion…he'd give it to me._

_No he wouldn't. You already told him and he didn't believe you. That's what you were trying to deal with before you got all hormonal and lost your bloody mind._

He was in the Slytherin common room, and he went upstairs, his skin feeling too hot and his clothes feeling overly itchy, and before he knew it, he was in the seventh year boys' dormitory, and when Blaise looked up from whatever homework he was working on, Draco tilted his head toward the door and left, not having to look back to know that Blaise would follow him.

As soon as Blaise entered his room, Draco pounced on him, his lips devouring Blaise's hungrily, his hands delving into the close-cropped curls of hair, and then moving down to unfasten Blaise's robes.

"You're…eager tonight." Blaise managed as Draco turned his attention to Blaise's throat, and wordlessly, Draco moved Blaise's hand from where it was fumbling with the catch on his own robes to brush over his neck, wanting to regain that feeling, to turn it into something he could control, that he could feel comfortable with. Blaise could see that something was off, but he had no idea if it was something good or bad, and decided that he would just go with this.

It wasn't long before they were on Draco's bed in their underwear, grinding against each other, Draco sighing happily as hot kisses moved over his pale throat and down onto his chest and shoulders.

And then everything stopped.

"Wh…what?" he looked up at Blaise, who looked offended and debauched all at the same time, which was a rather interesting sight. "Is something wrong?"

"You called me Harry." Blaise told him, his swollen lips pursing in annoyance. "I'm leaving." He climbed off the bed and began gathering his clothes, yanking them on sharply as Draco sat up, a pout on his lips, his skin still itching to be touched and realizing with a vague sense of alarm that if Blaise left now, he wouldn't come back, and Draco felt desperately lonely and desperately selfish. He didn't want Blaise to leave even if he knew he didn't deserve to have him stay when it was all just a lie.

"Don't go," Draco smiled winningly. "I want you."

"No, it's fine," Blaise flashed a dry smile back at him as he zipped up his pants. "I'll leave you two alone."

"Please, you know there's nothing between Potter and I," Draco snorted. "I was probably just thinking of those idiotic things you said the other night."

"Draco, at this point, it's a little sad." Blaise spoke as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked it in. "Look, we had a good time, and you're an awesome lay, don't feel bad. But I'm not here for you to put someone else's face on so you can deal with whatever hang-ups you have. If you want to shag, it'll be with me, not with someone else. If you want Harry, go see him."

"Ginny's in love with you!" Draco blurted out desperately. He knew that Ginny and himself weren't Blaise's only lovers, but he was willing to put down good money they were the most attractive, which he assumed was really all Blaise cared about. "She's going to try and get you to settle down with her."

"I know," Blaise let out a deep sigh as he turned away, but the tension was clear in his frame. "I think you should be less concerned with who she wants to be with and think more about what you want." He didn't have to say that was a low trick to pull, because Draco knew it. He felt shame coursing through him as the door shut behind Blaise and he looked around his room, noticing as he never really had before how empty it was.

He sat on the bed, nearly naked, and pulled his legs up, resting his chin on his knees and watching the fire flickering quietly in the grate. The world seemed very closed and silent.

He wondered when he had become so small.

----------

"Harry, what's wrong—" Hermione had looked up when Harry stumbled into the common room looking like he was running from something, and she cut herself off when he swept past her unseeing and continued up the stairs to his room.

_Draco Malfoy…what did you do to him?_

She knew that Harry had intended to test Draco's luck after dinner as they had discussed, and when he suddenly left the table, she had glanced up to see a retreating blonde and had assumed he was just trying to intercept him. Of course, she had been concerned that something might be wrong, and that he might try something, but she knew Harry well enough to trust that he wouldn't run blindly into a trap and let Draco do something horrible to him, so she had let him go alone.

Now she felt a prize idiot. She should have known he would do something. She should have insisted on being there with him, so that he wouldn't have a chance to try anything. Heaving a sigh, she got up and went after Harry, shaking her head slightly at the questioning glance Ginny shot her. She didn't want to draw her into whatever mess Draco had made.

"Invasion! Everyone get decent!" Seamus called out as she rushed into their room, and she shot him a quelling look and went straight to Harry's bed, ignoring the curious looks of Dean and Ron

"Can I come in?" she whispered as she peeked inside the drawn curtains, and he rolled over to face her, nodding slowly. She wasn't sure if it was just the dim light, but his eyes looked extremely wide and he looked so young it reminded her of when she had first met him in their first year. He had looked overwhelmed then, too. She sat on the bed, crossing her legs and reaching out to twitch his fringe out of his eyes, a gesture that calmed her as much as it calmed him. "So? How did it go?" she was still whispering, and she supposed that while she trusted the others not to eavesdrop, she was feeling as though she had to be careful with him, and whispering made her feel like she was handling him gently.

"Here," Harry whispered also, though she wasn't sure if he felt weak or he was just doing it because she was. He handed her a wrinkled square of parchment, and she opened it up, smoothing it out and peering at it carefully. It was pretty obvious what it meant. The column labeled "right" was empty, and the other column had forty-three tick marks in it.

"So…he's really got some sort of bad luck curse or something?" Hermione asked, setting the parchment aside, and he shrugged sluggishly. "Harry…what's wrong?"

"He kissed me." Harry told her, and she couldn't stop the little gasp that escaped her lips as he looked up at her with those eyes, greener than green and so completely helpless. He was begging her to tell him what to do, and what to think, and she knew she couldn't do that, and it tore at her a little bit to force him to handle it himself when he so clearly didn't want to. It wasn't as if nothing else had ever been handed to Harry that he should have been spared, or should have gotten help with.

"Oh." She answered simply. The part of her that was protective of Harry wanted to go curse Draco until he was an unrecognizable puddle of slime. The rest of her knew that she should stay here and make him face this. "How was that?"

"I don't know." He answered, flopping over onto his back and staring at the canopy of the bed, his eyes tracing the lines of the fabric, the light and shadow. He liked these beds. They made him feel safe and happy, because to him, Hogwarts was his real home, and every time he saw that canopy, he knew that was where he was.

"Whatever you say, you know I'll still be your friend," she assured him, moving a bit closer so she could brush the hair out of his eyes again. He pursed his lips slightly.

"It was…surprising." Harry finally managed, and she nodded encouragingly. He licked his lips, and realized he could still taste Draco there. "It…wasn't…what I would have thought."

"Well…I can't say that's what I expected to happen, either." She smiled softly and he frowned slightly. "You know, if you're attracted to men, it's okay." She told him.

"I know," he nodded. "And…I mean, you know about Dean and Seamus, and you've always been okay with that. And I knew, but I never thought…I mean, it's not like I want to kiss Ron."

"Well, you don't have to be attracted to _every_ man." She pointed out, and he gave a nearly silent chuckle.

"But…I mean," he licked his lips. "If I have to be…like that…I think it would be a lot easier if it wasn't…that person."

"Well…maybe, yeah." Hermione had to admit he had a fair point. "But it's not like you want to spend the rest of your life with him. You're allowed to choose if—"

"No I'm not," he shook his head. "Don't you see, I'm supposed to be the Hero of the Wizarding World. I'm supposed to somehow go out and defeat Voldemort. I'm not allowed to decide whoever I want to date. I couldn't even date Ginny, because I was putting her at risk. I certainly can't just…his father is Voldemort's right hand man. He might already be a Death Eater. I can't. It doesn't matter how I feel, I can't date someone like that."

"Harry, you idiot," Hermione shook her head. "Don't you understand? How you feel is the only thing that _should_ matter. If you care about him, if you want to be with him, then I know he's a good person because _you're _a good person, and you wouldn't give your heart to just anyone. Don't doubt yourself. Your heart knows more than my head ever will."

"Okay," Harry blinked at her. "What about Ron?"

"He'll just have to deal with it. You know how he can be. He might throw a fit at first, but he knows you would never do something bad." Hermione told him.

"I meant you and Ron." He clarified, and her face suffused with blood. "It's seventh year, Hermione, cut him a little slack already."

"Since when is this about me?" she played with her hair as she did when she was nervous, and he smiled at her.

"Since I cleverly changed the subject." He told her, and she shook her head fiercely.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." He sighed, and she nodded.

"Are you going to give it to him?" she asked.

"I…I don't know." He admitted.

"How about you sleep on it?" she smiled, and he nodded. She slipped out of the bed and left the room, ignoring Seamus' questions about what her and Harry had been getting up to, and feeling very clearly the heat of Ron's gaze on her back.

----------

"So," Ginny intercepted Draco on his way to class, looking like he had gotten very little sleep the night before. "I assume you're in?"

"Fine," he grumbled, not really annoyed with her, but feeling that he was pretty much annoyed with everything that day, including the sun, which had done him the great disservice of rising.

"Sounds like that bad luck is really getting to you." She teased him. "I'd tell you to get lucky with Blaise so you could stop being so surly, but I'm really not encouraging that sort of behavior."

"He knows you're in love with him." Draco snarled at her, and while she stood in frozen shock, he moved past her and strode toward his classroom, only to be accosted by another Gryffindor girl. He was getting really sick of that whole house and all their bloody good-hearted students.

"I really would appreciate it if you wouldn't throw yourself on Harry." She hissed at him, her hand on his arm like a vice, steering him toward the advanced Potions class. "He has quite enough on his plate without Death Eaters trying to seduce him in abandoned classrooms."

"You make it sound like my father and a bunch of his friends had their way with him." Draco knew that despite his extremely bad mood, he would need to put on his best face for her if he was going to have to try and get Hermione to do anything. "He was alone when I left."

"You know what I mean." She hissed, pulling him down a side passage before they reached the class so she could scold him to her heart's content without anyone seeing her deigning to talk to him.

_Self-righteous Gryffindors._

"What happened was a mistake," he assured her. "And it won't happen again. And I think I had been concussed, so I don't hold myself responsible for my actions. Furthermore, I am _not_ a Death Eater."

"Yet." She arched her brow skeptically and he pulled his robe back, sticking out his left arm for her to see the milky white skin of his arm, flipping it over so she could see he didn't have what she expected to see. "The other one?"

"Not very trusting, are you?" he showed her the other arm, and she nodded, but didn't smile at all. "I think I like Potter better than you."

"I don't think I want to experience your brand of approval." She smirked, and he almost laughed, caught by surprise in her retort. "He didn't just talk about what a great kisser you are, by the way. He told me about the coin."

"He said I was a great kisser?" Draco rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking back toward the main corridor as though he would see Harry from here, and Hermione reached out, flicking his ear with her fingers. "Ow…careful with the merchandise, Granger. Potter won't be pleased if you mess up my perfect skin."

"I would say you're lucky that I don't drop you from the top of the astronomy tower, but we both know luck isn't a factor here." She shook her head at him in disapproval. "If you want help, you need to be honest with him. Harry knows that you're lying about why your luck is so bad, and then when he's already confused, you have to go and confuse him more with your stupid spoiled impulsive behavior. Do you not know the meaning of the word consequences?"

"Does this lecture have a point, or were you just hoping I'd give you a sample?" Draco asked, and she spluttered at him. "Hey, don't worry about it, I wouldn't want to muscle in on Weasley's territory. Mostly…because I don't really appreciate ladies that way, but we'll just say it's me being the bigger man."

"What…why would you even…" Hermione turned so red she almost looked purple, and she stomped once, turning on her heel and stomping off to class.

Draco felt a lot better.

Harry thought he was a great kisser.

Secure in that knowledge, he felt he just might survive class with the dark-haired boy.

----------

"Okay, I'm sorry, but that had nothing to do with luck," Hermione was rushing with Harry toward Gryffindor tower, trying to keep him from overreacting to what had taken place in the Potions class they had just gotten out of. "That was Malfoy being an idiot and catching his sleeve on fire because he was too busy staring at you like a lovesick thirteen-year-old instead of making sure his arm wasn't right next to the bottom of his cauldron. And if he would have put it out instead of panicking, it would have only scorched him a bit instead of spreading like that. And anyway, you know Madame Pomfrey will be able to fix him up. I'm sure she can even grow his eyebrows back."

"He was on _fire_, Hermione," Harry shook his head at her as he stopped on his way back. "If catching on fire isn't bad luck, I don't know what is. And it's dangerous, and I can't let him just—"

"Harry!" Hermione yanked his arm and he finally stopped. "Just go ask him what really happened! Wouldn't you rather know the truth?"

"I know he needs that potion more than I do." Harry told her decisively, and she threw up her arms.

"Look, he's safely resting in the hospital wing, he's not going anywhere, nothing's going to happen to him. Why don't you go ask him and see if he's ready to tell you the truth or not yet?" she advised. "It's good that you want to trust him, but trusting someone you know is lying to you isn't a good way to stop them lying to you in the future. I know you're not really sure if you want to move forward, or where you want it to go, or what, but if he can't learn to trust you as well, this is never going anywhere."

"Hermione…" Harry sighed heavily and turned back towards her. "Why do you always have to be right?"

"I think I was born that way." She told him, smiling as they headed toward the hospital wing to check on their classmate.

"So…Valentine's Day is coming up." Harry pointed out as they walked. "You have any plans?"

"Why do you have to start with me?" she pressed a palm to her forehead in exasperation. "I'm sure I'll have plenty of homework to do."

"I'm sure you could do that some _other_ day." Harry told her. "Seriously, you know there's a war going on outside. You know we'll be part of it as soon as we graduate. Do you really want to think that you or he could die without you ever telling him how you feel?"

"Why do _you_ always have to be right?" she asked him with a look of extreme exasperation, and he shrugged slightly. "Can we talk about this later?" she pushed on the double doors and they entered the hospital wing, where Draco was in one corner, covered in a lot of gauze and ointments.

"No visitors! He's under sedation." Madame Pomfrey intercepted them, but Harry rushed over to get a closer look. "He needs to sleep while he's healing, it's very painful."

"Oh…will he," he gulped before continuing, wanting to reach out and touch the silver blonde hair that had escaped the burns on most of the rest of his body when his robes had caught fire. "Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine. He came straight to me, so it won't be any trouble. He won't even scar, but he'll certainly watch where his sleeves are next time he's brewing a potion." Madame Pomfrey told him in a slightly softer tone. "If you come back tomorrow, you can speak with him. He should be back in class by the end of the week."

"Thanks," he nodded and left, but he felt restless, even when Hermione assured him again and again that it wouldn't hurt Draco to be sedated, and calmly debunked his various theories about unlucky things that could happen while he lay asleep in the hospital wing.

They went to the rest of their classes, but it was clear that Harry wasn't going to be happy until he got to speak to Draco, so Hermione didn't push him and did her best to excuse his behavior to Ron. That night, she told him not to worry, and also warned him not to sneak off to the hospital wing in his cloak, which she was fairly sure he'd do anyway.

The next morning at breakfast she wasn't surprised when he showed up looking like he'd slept in his clothes for only a few hours, but she did a double take when she saw how his hands were shaking like leaves.

"The potion's gone." He hissed as he sat beside her.

----------

"Hey," Ginny yelped as she was pulled away from the entrance to the Great Hall and wasn't sure if she felt better when she saw the person tugging her along by her wrist was Blaise.

"What…what do you want?" she sputtered as he opened a closet and pulled her into it, closing the door behind them. "I have to—"

"What's with you?" Blaise cut in. "Didn't you get my note yesterday?"

"Oh…yeah." Ginny twirled a lock of red hair between two fingers.

"Then why didn't you come meet me?" he asked. "I wanted to see you."

"I hate when you say that." She shook her head and pressed a hand to one temple as though she had a sudden headache. "You make me want to believe it."

"I wouldn't have sent for you to meet me if I didn't want to." He moved forward, trailing fingers down the side of her face. She shook her head, backing up and finding herself against a wall with a broom handle digging into her side.

"That's not what I meant." She dismissed his words swiftly. "Blaise, when we first started…seeing each other this way, I thought…it was a lot of fun. It was different from my other relationships, and it felt really free. But I don't think I can keep on doing this. When it comes down to it, I really am not cut out for sharing."

"What are you saying?" he prompted, and she rolled her eyes at him in irritation.

"Look, Malfoy told me you know about…about how I feel." She told him, feeling reckless, and only a little nervous. What was the point in worrying if he already knew. "About you…I don't see why you're dancing around it if you already know."

"I thought it was better for you to say it on your own and not rely on someone else." Blaise shrugged slightly, and she blinked at him in confusion.

"Malfoy told you, didn't he?" she finally hissed. "That hateful little—"

"Go easy on him," Blaise held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "He tried to, but I'd already figured it out by then."

"You did?" she was surprised at this. "How?"

"Just because I'm sleeping around doesn't mean I can't tell the difference between lust and love." He told her. "And don't get too angry with Draco, he's got himself in a big enough mess without having to shield himself from your spell work."

"Harry?" she tilted her head and he nodded, not elaborating. "I knew they'd figure it out eventually. At least I got my chance at him before they did."

"You'll have to settle for me from now on," Blaise tilted his head back in a clearly calculated pose, and Ginny couldn't help snorting derisively before a thought struck her rather suddenly.

"At the beginning…you said that if things got complicated, it would be over." Ginny pointed out to him. "But you already knew how I felt…and you still sent for me. And then you chased me down when I didn't come. What's the deal?"

"I decided I should try this whole monogamy thing out, see what everyone's raving about." He shrugged, and when he moved forward this time, she stepped toward him as well, meeting him in the middle, finding his lips with hers and kissing him desperately, gratefully.

"Now there's just one problem we might run into," she breathed against his neck after the kiss broke, and he nodded knowingly.

"We'll deal with that bridge when we reach it." He insisted, unfastening her robes.

The closet was cramped, and Ginny knew she would be late for class if she stayed inside.

She couldn't make these things important enough for her to leave him in that moment.

----------

"Oh, Draco, my dear sweet Draco." Pansy was pleased to have the pleasure to be the first visitor to see him since he'd come out of sedation. He attempted not to look too disappointed. "I've been so worried about you. And your beautiful skin…will it heal?"

"Madame Pomfrey informs me I'll be left intact. You needn't worry." Draco had a sudden thought. "Although…perhaps I will be horrible disfigured. There might be heavy scarring. Perhaps you should find yourself a more pristine man to shower your attentions on."

"Draco, dear," Pansy smiled, shaking her head and pushing his hair back from his face. He had decided that it was a small miracle that his hair had been spared, but what he didn't know was that it had been singed and the burnt bits cut back, so it was actually a bit shorter than it had been. "You know that even if you were horrifically scarred, I would still love you. And besides, our children would still be lovely and perfect."

"Pansy, I don't know whether I should be touched or terrified." Draco pursed his lips.

"I brought you something," she pulled out a few rolls of parchment. "I've been doing research, as you suggested, and I have some materials for you to look at."

"Oh…yes, Weasley and Granger." He had almost forgotten about that, what with being on fire and finding himself alone and stinking of burn ointment in the hospital wing. "Very good, let me see."

"This is a chart I made with some help from my own observations over the year and some subtle questions posed to observers who had a closer vantage point," she unrolled the first piece of parchment to show him. He reached for it, and when he realized how…raw he felt he regretted his actions and decided maybe it was best to just stay still. "You see here, this is time, and here, this shows romantic tension. I've marked specific peaks for you to see what exactly caused sudden elevation. Here's where she dated Krum, and you can see it stayed pretty steady, even if it lowered a bit. And _here's_ where he dated Brown. You can see that we're reaching critical levels. And I've projected that by the end of the year, what with it being their last year here together, they might in fact explode from an overload of tension."

"I don't know if that's possible, Pansy." Draco frowned, and when she gave him a wide-eyed look, he sighed and nodded. "Very nice chart. Very good. What else do you have for me?"

"Here is her schedule, and here's his." Pansy showed him two more pieces of parchment. "I've underlined the classes they have together."

"Excellent, that should be helpful." He nodded. "What is that last one?"

"This is a map of Gryffindor tower." Pansy unveiled her proudest achievement last. "And I found out their current password."

"What did you have to do to get that?" he stared at her in wonder, and she shrugged and demurred. "Pansy…did you sleep with a Gryffindor?"

"Ugh, no." her face scrunched in disgust at his assumption. "No, I just hid near the door and waited until someone stupid and loud came by and said it. Piece of cake."

"Then," he licked his lips, his entire body trembling in excitement. "I have a mission for you, Pansy, if you feel you're up to it."

"Of course!" she beamed and sat up extra straight. Draco was clearly proud of all the work she'd done. "Anything."

"I need you to go to the seventh year boys' dormitory in Gryffindor tower." He told her slowly, not wanting to get worked up with excitement when this might not even work. "It will be dangerous."

"Did you want me to steal something from Weasley? Or plant something? I could Polyjuice into Granger and seduce him." She speculated, and then pulled a face. "Only…I don't want to kiss him. But I could seduce him and then run away before he can touch me with his Weasel Paws."

"You…have Polyjuice?" he blinked in surprise. "How do you have Polyjuice?"

"Oh…well, to be honest." She coughed in slight embarrassment. "I only just finished it. I was going to become Blaise for a few hours so I could get a good snog out of you."

"Pansy…wouldn't you rather snog someone who wanted to snog you?" Draco asked, now sure that he felt more terrified than touched.

"But Draco!" she heaved a dramatic sigh, "There aren't a lot of attractive Slytherin men! I had to choose between Blaise and you, because Nott would probably cut me if I tried to touch him, and Blaise is fun for a roll around, but you know he'll never settle down with _anyone_, and I want someone I can marry and have lots of kids with."

"You've slept with Blaise?" Draco was surprised that he had not been aware of this before. He might not be on top of Gryffindor gossip, but he prided himself in his knowledge of the goings-on between all his various lackeys.

"Who hasn't?" she flopped against the chair dramatically. "Draco, dear, all I want is for us to be happy, and you make it so _difficult._"

"Okay, Pansy." Draco wasn't at all sure he could deliver on what he was about to promise, but he thought it was worth a try, and for the sake of being rid of her, try he most certainly would. "How about if you go to that dorm, like I said? If you can get me what I need, I'll make sure you have Valentine's dinner with a good looking Slytherin man who is _not_ gay. How does that sound?"

"What do you need?" Pansy leaned forward eagerly. Draco paused to think of how the vial had looked, remembering his complete irritation with Harry at having him brew a better potion, at having him beat him in something he had never been very good at before…

"It's a small vial of potion," Draco held his fingers out to demonstrate the size. "It should look like molten gold, and it should be somewhere in Harry Potter's belongings. Bring me that, and I'll take care of the rest. And I would recommend you go disguised as a Gryffindor if you have Polyjuice, or you could end up in the hospital wing for Valentine's Day."

"Got it!" she paused, frowning. "I'm really not sure what this has to do with getting Granger and Weasley together…"

"Trust me…it's very…complicated." Draco nodded carefully, and she planted a kiss on his cheek before skipping out of the wing.

_Finally, I can't believe that it was so easy all this time. And I'm supposed to be suffering bad luck. Thank Merlin for Pansy's unwavering loyalty. Now I won't have to worry about having to try and play Gryffindor matchmaker, _or_ trying to convince Potter I'm trustworthy._

_Obviously I'm not…I'm trying to steal from him._

_Well…it's a matter of life and death. I caught on fire!_

And then, behind all those other thoughts and musings came the one thought that had been on his mind since he woke up.

_I thought he'd visit me._

----------

At first, Pansy had thought she'd sneak into the tower as Harry Potter himself. Who would question Potter looking through his own things? However…then she realized that this potion thing was probably completely separate from the Granger/Weasley plot, and it was two of the many interconnected plots in Draco's web of deceit. She could get the potion, that wasn't a problem, and certainly he'd be pleased with her, but what if she _also_ did something about the Weasley and Granger situation? Besides that…she doubted that the boys that Potter lived with would really question Granger looking through his things, either. Stupid trusting Gryffindors. They did this to themselves, really.

Over the years, Pansy had discovered that as Draco's right hand…woman, it paid to be prepared for any possible eventuality, especially anything that might be an anti-Gryffindor plot of some sort. She had two trunks, and the second was the one in which she kept all of the materials gathered since her arrival at Hogwarts. Things she thought might come in handy later on. What Draco did not realize was that, other than the chart and current password for Gryffindor tower, she'd already had all the other pieces of her presentation ready, waiting for when they might be needed. Every year, she gathered the schedules of all students she thought she might need. She'd gathered floor plans of all of the houses four years ago when left unattended in Filch's office. And thinking that there might be some sort of Polyjuice plot from the day they had discussed it in Potions, she had gathered and labeled carefully hair samples from nearly a quarter of the people at Hogwarts. She even had a few teachers. From the trunk, she pulled out the rack of Gryffindor samples and pulled out the vial neatly labeled "H Granger" in her own fastidious handwriting. She pulled out her wand and took off her outer robe, sticking her tongue out with concentration before muttering a spell and grinning to herself. She had discovered a few years ago she could use spell-work to modify clothing, and she had become rather skilled at this. Putting on her robes, modified to look as though they were Gryffindor robes instead, she modified her tie as well, retied it, and dropped the hair into her prepared Polyjuice potion.

It was a shame, but when Blaise had announced that he was now monogamous, she had known her plan would fall on its face anyway. She might as well find some other use for the potion she had so painstakingly created. Blaise wouldn't say who he was giving up his philandering ways for, saying that "some details needed to be ironed out first." Of course, this made it painstakingly obvious that the mysterious person was Ginny Weasley, since most of Slytherin already knew most of the people he was seeing, and didn't really seem to mind that he was sleeping with a Gryffindor since she wasn't really so bad, as far as that house went. In fact, Pansy thought she would have made a fair Slytherin. However, while she knew that most of Slytherin wouldn't give a fig whether Blaise decided to date her over any of his other lovers, she was pretty sure Ron Weasley wouldn't be quite so blasé on the topic if he found out about it. She assumed that issue was what needed to be ironed out.

After she had downed the potion, she had to struggle not to pat down her unruly bush of hair, and she wondered how Granger stood it every day and didn't just focus her attention and skills on some good hair-care spells and potions. It was mystifying how twisted up Gryffindor priorities seemed to be. She wasn't quite sure it was safe to traipse through Slytherin dungeon as the trusty bookworm sidekick of everyone's favorite Hero of the Wizarding World, but she put on her very best imitation of the patented Hermione Granger I'm-up-to-important-world-saving-work hurried walk and just left as quickly as she could. If a few Slytherin's decided to accost Granger later…well, she was smart, she'd figure something out.

She had decided now would be a good time because of the fact that Granger was in class so that she wouldn't run into her, but she knew she would probably run into some other Gryffindors, and she was worried she wouldn't be able to act good-hearted enough, so she had already invented a story about being in a hurry to get something she had forgotten for her class so no one would talk to her too long and discover she was an imposter. Harry Potter himself was in the common room, as was Ginny Weasley, who was prancing about giddily, only confirming Pansy's Blaise Zabini girlfriend theory.

"Hermione! I have to talk to you!" she was giggling, and Pansy had to stop herself from pulling a face.

"I'm in a hurry, I forgot my homework, I actually have class right now." She excused herself hurriedly, waving at Harry for good show. He was sitting near the fire, and while he had a book out as though he were studying, his parchment was blank, and his eyes kept wandering the room.

_Probably found out Ginny's not going to go back to him just yet._ Pansy figured, counting off the landings and then surreptitiously pulling out her map when she saw no one else around. She nodded sharply as she confirmed that she was going the right way and pushed open the door, striding in with all the confidence of a girl who was used to simply barging into a Gryffindor boys' dormitory. She had a lot of experience to draw on from barging into Draco's room, so this was not difficult, but there was no one inside to admire her bravado. She walked around the room slowly, trying to figure out which of the five beds belonged to Potter, and then snapping her fingers as she realized she just had to look for his broom, since he was the only person in school with a Firebolt.

"Accio Firebolt." She wasn't great at summoning charms, but it was enough to make the broom flop noisily from within the trunk in front of the third bed. Snapping her fingers with pleasure at her own ingenuity, she hurried over and began with his nightstand, searching through the notes and rolling her eyes at the hubris of him keeping a Snitch in his drawer, completely ignoring the fact that she knew Draco still had the first Snitch he had ever caught. She knocked at the bottoms and backs of the drawer, searching for hidden compartments, but she came up blank, and moved on to his trunk. She kept glancing at the door nervously at first, picking through the hideous wardrobe he kept in there, along with his broom and his books and various other knickknacks, including a wearily whistling sneakoscope and a shattered mirror, but before long, she was emptying the trunk out completely in her search.

Holding up a knobbly sock that smelled of cheap detergent, she clicked her tongue in disapproval. All of his clothes were so…cheap and dowdy. It was a good thing he had robes to cover up all these hideous wooly Weasley sweaters and oversized clothes. He was already skinny as a rail without wearing some consignment shop rejects that were five sizes too big for him.

_He may be the Chosen One, but I'd bet my eyeteeth he couldn't choose a good wardrobe if the fate of the world rested on him not looking horrendous. He is in serious need of a girlfriend to dress him. Sad that Blaise snatched up Ginny when he doesn't even _need_ help being fashionable._

Then she pulled out some pants and a liquidy cool piece of cloth brushed against her hand. She blinked and reached down, hardly able to believe what she'd found until she draped it over her arm as a test.

_Potter…you dirty sneaking devil…I would have never thought you capable of something so…so nearly Slytherin._

An Invisibility Cloak? This whole time, all these years…suddenly so many of Draco's stories were beginning to make a lot more sense. He had _known_ that Potter had somehow done certain things, but he'd had no proof, and now…now it made sense. But how did he get it?

Pansy didn't need to think twice about taking the cloak. She was pretty sure Draco would claim it for his own, but at least if she couldn't find the weird gold potion, she had something else to show for a good afternoon's work. She folded it up and hid it deep in a pocket of her robes. She checked the empty trunk for a false bottom, was unsurprised to find that there was nothing more to it than met the eye and began checking under the bed, knocking the floorboards to look for a loose one. She pulled apart the bedding, lifted the mattress, and still she couldn't find the vial Draco had described.

_What potion could it be? And why does he need it? And why can't he just get Snape to make it for him, or make some himself. He's a great potion maker._

Lazily doing a couple spells to tidy up the bed and put the things back in the trunk, she shut its lid and decided that it had looked about this messy when she arrived, so she shrugged and left, not looking forward to Draco's tantrum when she told him there was no vial of golden potion in Potter's things, but feeling sure that the Cloak would soothe his temper.

"Hermione!" She froze on the way down the stairs as Ron Weasley came up to her, grinning that dopey grin that seemed to be one of three expressions he was capable of. She realized that fate was smiling on her and tried to think of something to say to him while he thought she was Hermione. "Aren't you in class right now?"

_How do Gryffindors seduce? I can't imagine Granger ever saying anything the least bit flirtatious. They have no sense of subtlety. Everything they do, they just charge in and ask questions later._

_Oh no…I see that's the way it is._

_Draco had better have some amazing sort of plan to make this up to me._

She pulled him forward by his improperly knotted tie—seriously, did Gryffindors not care at all whether they were presentable? He let out a choked gasp seconds before she closed her eyes tightly and pressed her lips to his, kissing him with everything she had. He was surprised, but he began to return the kiss almost at once, and she was surprised to note that he wasn't bad at all, though she'd rather die a thousand deaths than ever admit that she had enjoyed kissing Ron Weasley even the smallest bit. When she absolutely needed to breathe, she pushed him away and fled the stairwell and the tower before he could catch her and have his dirty way with her. She could not believe she had just done that.

Draco couldn't believe it either.

"Ugh…gross." He shook his head. "I can't believe you did that."

"It was horrible, and if you ever tell anyone, I will flay you." She informed him. "And if asked, I will vehemently deny it ever happened." She had only returned to herself a few minutes before, having come to see Draco right after she left the tower with her spoils.

"So did you get the potion?" he asked eagerly, and she winced slightly. Whatever it was, he clearly wanted it badly.

"Er…he didn't have it." She held up her hands defensively as he began spluttering in his enraged-child-who-wants-a-lolly fashion. "Look, I swear, I looked everywhere, I even checked for hidden compartments and loose floorboards, although I didn't really expect such a naïve, trusting sort to have booby trapped drawers."

"Okay, those booby traps were clearly necessary, as you proved when you tried to find my diary." Draco defended himself at the reference to an incident last year when Pansy had triggered a trap and ended up with boils on her hands that had taken Pomfrey a week to heal. "But are you _sure_ you checked everywhere? I know he has it, he told me himself, you know he can't lie to save his skin."

"He knows you were looking for it?" Pansy shook her head in disgust at this oversight. "Well of _course_ I couldn't find it! He's given it to someone else or hidden it somewhere now that he knows you want it. He had to think you might try to sneak in and steal it. He's no great lord of subterfuge, but he isn't an utter dolt. He can _hide_ things, especially small vials."

"You'll just have to go back and find it." Draco shook his head, clearly finding this unacceptable. "I _need_ that potion. I could die."

"Draco, what's going on?" she asked him. "If there's a potion you need, why don't you just make it or get Snape to make you some?"

"Because I can't make it," Draco admitted, and it was clear this admission stung his pride. "And Snape's working on a batch, but it takes six months to prepare. Look…I can tell you what's going on, but you have to swear not to tell. I might…have done some things that aren't legal. Or nice."

"Like I care," Pansy rolled her eyes. "What, did you kill somebody?"

"Well…sort of." He glanced away nervously. "You remember Crabbe's owl?"

"You killed Pancake?" she narrowed her eyes. "But I heard Filch chopped his head off on accident."

"Yeah, a really _unlucky_ accident." Draco took a deep breath. "I wanted to finally beat Potter at Quidditch, so I spent all summer brewing Felix Felicis. Remember that luck potion that Slughorn gave a sample of away in sixth year?"

"To Potter," she nodded thoughtfully. "But Draco, the match is over. It doesn't matter if I steal the luck potion now. It's not a time-traveling potion."

"No, I know," Draco shook his head. "I was trying to brew my own batch. I thought I could do it, I've always been good with potions, but Snape of course tells me I was an idiot for even attempting it, and I'm tempted to agree with him, because it went wrong, and I didn't know until I'd already taken it myself. I tested it on Crabbe's owl, but nothing bad happened until I'd taken mine because I had him locked in my room, thinking if the potion was bad he'd just fall over dead. I thought it was fine, but it was wrong, and instead of just poisoning you, it gives you bad luck. Like fatally bad."

"The lightning!" her hands clapped to her mouth. "Oh…Draco, what should we do? Will it wear off soon? Is that why you've been having all these accidents?"

"Yes, and I don't know if it will _ever_ wear off, unfortunately. Snape agrees that if I took some properly brewed Felix Felicis, it should counter the effects and hopefully cure my luck and just return it to neutrality, but the berk who won the potion this year used his, and no one else has any besides Potter. He doesn't know exactly why I want it, but I told him I'm under a bad luck curse." Draco explained. "I was trying to get him to give me his, or sell it to me, but that's…not going to work. And Ginny Weasley had offered to steal it for me if I could get her brother with Granger so that he wouldn't freak out about her relationship with Blaise, and then I realized _you_ could just steal it when you told me about the Polyjuice…"

"Well, if he's hidden it, the only way to get it will be to get him to agree to give it to you." Pansy reasoned. "He's ridiculously heroic, you'd think he would just _give_ it to you for free if he knew you could die without it…even if you two have had your difficulties in the past."

"I told you he doesn't know the whole story," Draco reminded her. "I told him a malaclaw bit me. I know he knows I'm lying, so of course he thinks I have some dark purpose like sneaking half the Death Eaters into Hogwarts or trying to off him, or whatever you like."

"Then just tell him what you told me," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Tell him the truth. Gryffindors love all that honesty rot. It's like their favorite thing. He'll definitely give it to you if you just tell him."

"But he'll tell Dumbledore what I did!" Draco hissed. "Don't you see, I'll be sent to Azkaban. I illegally attempted to brew a restricted substance, used it for a purpose that's specifically against the law, and inadvertently caused Crabbe's owl's decapitation! I don't think my bad luck will help me get off with just a warning."

"Hmm, good point." Pansy frowned. "Well, I'm not going back in that tacky tower, but if you want to, I _did_ find something else while I was there."

"What?" Draco asked, and she began to pull it out when Harry Potter came rushing in, looking flushed and irate. She leaned in, pretending to kiss his cheek.

"He had an Invisibility Cloak," she whispered hurriedly. "I've taken it."

"Wha…" Draco squawked inelegantly as he clearly made all the connections she already had when she discovered the object.

"See you later, Draco! Feel better!" she blew him a kiss and left him to Harry, who reached the bed just as she had told him what she had hidden in her robes.

"You…you!" Draco spluttered at Harry indignantly, completely throwing the dark haired boy off balance. "You!"

"Me?" Harry wasn't sure what he was meant to say to Draco's vaguely accusatory pointing. "What is it?"

"You!" Draco clenched his fists and then winced as his fingernails bit into the tender new skin. "Ow."

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry, just don't get so worked up," Harry shook his head, reaching out and taking Draco's hands in his, bending over to blow on the palms soothingly. Draco felt completely undone by the gesture. "You burned all of this, you need to let it heal."

"Oh…" Draco recalled being very angry with Harry, feeling very much like Harry had been tricking him for years, and being enraged that he hadn't seen the obvious solution to how Harry had been doing this thing…but now he was having a hard time thinking about anything that wasn't Harry's fingers and the way they felt against his hands.

"I meant to come earlier, but I was exhausted. I actually snuck up here last night to check you were okay." Harry admitted. "I can't believe you just caught fire like that. I told Hermione that even if we hadn't tested you, that's proof enough that you're suffering from the worst luck I've ever heard of."

"Snuck up to check?" Draco repeated the only bit of this he had processed. Harry was still holding his hands, leaning over them. Why was he doing this? Why didn't it bother Draco?

"I…wanted to ask you something." Harry glanced down at the hands again, and Draco realized what he must want to ask.

_Granger and Pansy both think I should tell him…of course Pansy seems to agree he'll probably rat me out and send me to prison, but maybe…if I get him to swear he won't tell anyone…he'd be too honorable to break his word. That's just the way Gryffindors work._

"Can you promise you won't tell anyone?" Draco asked before Harry could pose the question. The Gryffindor frowned in confusion, but nodded anyway. "Okay, I know it was wrong and at least a little illegal, but I tried to brew some Felix Felicis so I could beat you at Quidditch, it turned out wrong, and I now have eternal bad luck as far as I can tell, but Sn—I think that if I take some proper luck potion, it'll neutralize the effects. That's what's _really_ going on, okay?"

"Draco…I can't…"

"I know, you can't believe I'd do something so low, but really, can't you? Isn't that why you thought I was up to something horrible in the first place?" Draco pulled his hands away and lay back against his pillows, staring down at his palms. "And if it isn't obvious already, the reason I didn't just tell you right away was because I could get in a lot of trouble if you told Dumbledore, and I'd really rather not test my luck right now of all times, but you're the only person that can give me the potion, and it's obvious you aren't going to do it if I'm not honest about why I need it, so I just have to trust you."

"Draco…"

"And you swore you wouldn't tell." Draco reminded him, looking back up to see a tortured look on the other young man's face. "What?"

"I was trying to tell you…I can't give you the potion." Harry told him, and Draco blinked in shock. "After what happened in Potions…well, Hermione really thought I should get you to be truthful about everything first, but I was too afraid of what could happen if I waited. So I tried to find the potion this morning. I was just…just going to give it to you as soon as you cam around. But…it was gone. I looked everywhere and I couldn't find it. I know I had it, and I remember bringing it back, packing it this year, because I remember thinking it was too bad Hermione would never let me use them for my NEWT's, but now it's just not there." He finished, his tone becoming very soft. Draco took some time to digest this.

"Then…what did you want to ask me?" Draco asked. "Wasn't it about that?"

"I was going to…to ask you about what happened in the classroom," Harry admitted. "Monday night…remember?"

"That was a mistake." Draco couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone. Great. The potion was gone, and so were his chances of living to see the end of the year.

_I'll never survive this luck long enough for Snape to brew the potion._

"I…I thought you seemed…"

"I _said_ it was a mistake." Draco reiterated, taking a twisted pleasure in the pain in Harry's eyes. "Just as I was clearly mistaken to come to you for help in the first place. Go back to your bloody tower and forget I ever asked you for anything. Forget anything that ever happened since that Quidditch match."

"But…there could be some other way." Harry suggested. "If I speak to Dumbledore, he might be able—"

"Did you not _swear_ you wouldn't repeat anything I told you?" Draco snapped angrily, and Harry jumped slightly, surprised by the force of the words. "I'm sure you could care less about the effects of your actions on others, but I would rather not live out the rest of my short life in a cell in Azkaban. Now respect a dying man's wish and leave me the fuck alone."

"Draco, please, I really thought I had it." Harry attempted, not even realizing he'd used the other boy's first name in his panicked desperation to make amends.

"Save your hero posturing for someone it works on," Draco turned away, his tone becoming resigned. "We're not friends, and we never have been. You think we're close now because of something like that? You think I meant anything I said or did? Everything I did was calculated to get you to give me that bloody potion, and now that you don't have it, I have no further use for you. So just…just go."

Harry was trembling all over, but he wasn't sure whether he was angry at himself or Draco as he left the wing and made his way back to Gryffindor tower. His emotions were so jumbled up, he didn't think he'd ever be able to make sense of them ever again.

He wished he could as Draco had said and just forget everything.

----------

"Ron, what is _up_ with you?" Ginny asked her brother as he stared fixedly at the entrance to Gryffindor tower, an odd expression on his face. "You're being…weirdly quiet."

"Nothing." He answered briefly, not even glancing away from the portrait hole.

"Well…don't you want to know where Harry is?" Ginny asked, trying to get a reaction from him. He was starting to scare her a bit. He blinked, and she sighed heavily. "He's gone to the hospital wing. To visit Draco Malfoy."

"Hm." Ron's mouth twitched slightly, but his answer was disappointing in the extreme.

"He was _really_ worried about Draco all day." She told him. "Draco _Malfoy_." She clarified, just in case he wasn't getting the point.

"That's good." He answered. Ginny was now pretty sure he wasn't even hearing her.

"I wonder if they're having a secret love affair." She speculated, just to test the waters.

"Maybe."

Okay, he definitely wasn't listening.

"You know, I have a new boyfriend." She waited for the interrogation, but all that came was a very blank:

"Oh."

"You might not approve of him." She pushed. "He's a Slytherin."

"I see."

"Blaise Zabini." She added. "That's who my boyfriend is."

"Good."

"We've had sex." She explained. "Lots of times."

"What?!" Ron turned on her so suddenly she nearly fell out of her chair.

"Merlin, Ron!" she yelped, gathering herself up again. "I didn't think you were even paying attention to me!"

"You…and that Slytherin?" he blinked momentarily. "Wait…what the hell did you say about Harry and Draco?"

"That was a joke!" she explained. "Well…parts of it. He _did_ go visit him, and he was worried, and there _are_ lots of rumors that they're having a secret love affair."

"Okay, now what the hell is going on between you and Zabini?" Ron's face was nearly purple with rage. Ginny wondered if she should just pretend that was a joke as well.

"I had the _longest_ test in Arithmancy today," Hermione had just walked in, rolling her head around to crack her neck, a book under one arm. Ron looked suddenly torn, glancing at Hermione, then at Ginny, then back. "What's going on guys?"

"Ron's burst a blood vessel." Ginny explained quickly. "He was acting weird, and then he just started yelling at me."

"Ron?" Hermione turned on him, he let out an exasperated noise, leapt to his feet, and lunged at her, kissing her so hard she dropped her book on his feet. It was possibly the most hilarious first kiss Ginny had ever witnessed.

_Thank you, Draco. Job well done._

She slipped out through the portrait hole as the kissing carried on, glad to find that her brother once again did not seem to see her, but it might because he had his face plastered to Hermione's. She began skipping as she started toward the hospital wing, reminded herself she was sixteen years old and stopped, walking normally. As she started down the stairs, she passed an extremely morose and angry looking Harry, who did not even glance up when she called his name.

She shrugged and continued on, wondering if there really _was _a secret love affair between Draco and Harry. She'd always noticed a weird tension there, but until she and Harry had broken up and she'd really gotten over him, she hadn't really been able to name it. However, she hadn't really thought either of them was aware of it, either. But she was pretty sure anyone trying to date Draco Malfoy would probably have approximately the same expression as Harry had just had on his face, so it seemed as fair a guess as any. She burst into the hospital wing rather triumphantly and nearly started skipping again over to Draco, who was looking rather morose as well.

"Hey, moper," she greeted. He blinked up at her with a completely dejected look on his face, and then turned away again. "Wow, did you two just have a fight or something? Because I came to pay you for your _excellent_ services, but if you want me to just keep this, I can." She whipped out the vial of gold potion and he glanced up, did a double take, and his eyes goggled.

"_You_ had it?" his voice cracked in surprise. "You dirty little…you have no idea how much trouble you've caused!"

"What, did you try to sneak someone in to steal it?" Ginny snorted. "Like I was going to let you skip out on our deal. No, I got this the same night we talked. I didn't want to risk you going around behind my back."

"You…just give me that!" he snatched for it and she held it back, but when he snarled as though he might actually rip her throat out, she handed it over.

"No need to get so touchy." She clicked her tongue at him as he pulled out the stopper and downed the potion in one go. "I have _no_ idea what you did, but great job. Ron's snogging Hermione even as we speak, even though he knows about Blaise. Thank you for your help."

"Please go away before I have to hex you." He told her calmly, and she huffed in annoyance. The nerve of some people.

Draco waited until she had gone and then dug through the pocket of the robes folded neatly on his nightstand, pulling out a coin. He made himself wait five minutes, just to be sure.

"Heads."

He looked down and smiled. The coin's face seemed to smile back at him.

He didn't ever think flipping a coin could possibly make him so happy before that moment.

Now if the coin could just fix the rest of his life, everything would be great.

----------

As he had been told, Harry didn't visit Draco again in the hospital wing, and as much as he hated to admit it, it made Malfoy's heart ache. The things he had said…they had been purposefully cruel, intended to push him away, and they had worked, and now he saw that he had been angry at Harry for no good reason. He _had_ been in possession of the potion, he hadn't misplaced it at all. Ginny Weasley had stolen it before he could give it to Draco. And he'd intended to simply give it to him even knowing Draco was lying to him, even without really knowing that he definitely needed it and wouldn't be using it for some evil Death Eater plot. Guilt and regret plagued him, but there was very little he could do about it when it hurt just to sit up.

He took to flipping the coin when he felt restless, utterly pleased that he was only able to guess it about half the time. The day after he drove Harry off, Hermione had come and told him off for a while, but when it was clear that Draco wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying she threw up her arms and left. Blaise had visited, and Draco had employed him to negotiate whatever terms were necessary to get Nott to agree to go out to dinner with Pansy on Valentine's Day, and now he was going to have to pay the ill-tempered Slytherin a thousand galleons, which he personally felt was a bargain, and that was when Blaise had explained that he had told Nott all about how skilled in bed Pansy was.

He should have known.

Draco still wanted to curse Ginny Weasley into oblivion for causing him to fight with Harry, and thus causing him to feel this way in his own view of things. Then again, he was annoyed with a lot of people. He was annoyed with Hermione for getting Harry to wait on giving him the potion, with Harry for doubting him even if he had reason, with Ginny for interfering for her own selfish reasons, with Blaise for giving her what she wanted, with Nott for being a greedy asshole, and with Pansy for not telling him in the beginning she had the means to sneak into Gryffindor tower. And he had to admit that he was annoyed with himself for trying to brew such a difficult potion in the first place, for lying to Harry and dragging things out, for agreeing to help Ginny, for blaming Harry for everything and pushing him away. But especially, he was annoyed at himself for not being able to stop thinking about Potter.

He couldn't deny any longer that he was attracted to him, and that he was drawn to him so powerfully that once he became aware of it, he found it hard to think of anything else around Harry besides wanting desperately to be with him. Now that the floodgates were open, he couldn't believe he had ignored it before for so long. But now…after all the things he'd said, he seriously doubted he would ever get anywhere near Harry again. Not in that way, definitely.

He was finally released from the hospital wing on Friday, and he went through the day like a zombie, unable to make himself focus on anything, to feel anything. If he let himself feel…it would be too much and he would collapse in on himself. He hated seeing the way that Harry pointedly ignored him. It was worse than before, when they had fought all the time, unable to leave each other alone.

_I've always wanted his attention, I just didn't understand why._

Draco had no idea how he was supposed to survive the rest of the year like this, when all he could find the energy to focus on throughout the day was the way Harry chewed on his quill throughout the Transfiguration lecture. He would fail all his NEWT's, unless they were deciding to test on what Harry's precise eye color was, or how his lips looked, or the nervous smile he had when he was giving an answer he wasn't sure of. He seriously doubted any of those things would be part of his NEWT's, so he'd either have to learn to move on with his life or _do_ something about these feelings he had.

The stubborn, prideful part of him wanted him to forget Harry and move on. He didn't want to apologize for what he'd said, he didn't want to admit the way he'd gone around Harry's back not once but twice, making his mistrust only that much more valid.

But then again…tomorrow was Valentine's Day. He should at least give that mushy part of him that wanted to just run across the Great Hall and beg Harry to forgive him some sort of chance to see if there was really any hope there. Besides that, he wasn't even allowed to blow off steam with Blaise anymore, now that he was actually dating Ginny, and publicly even. It had caused a big stir, a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. Draco was pretty sure Harry and he could cause an even bigger stir, if he'd give him a chance.

After dinner, he tried to catch Harry to speak to him in private, but he pretended not to hear Draco calling after him and raced back to the tower, leaving Draco scowling in his wake. This called for serious measures.

And besides…he should probably return the cloak to Harry.

Of course, he had told Pansy about getting the potion, and she seemed rather smug about it, saying that if she hadn't worked so hard, he wouldn't have gotten it, so really, she had prevailed for him in the end. He had wanted to tell her anyone could have kissed Weasley, had thought about that, and then not said anything. He thanked her instead, told her that Nott would be taking her to dinner tomorrow night, and then asked if he could take the cloak on a test run.

"I'll go with you." She told him at once, and he shrugged, shaking his head as if he really didn't care, but it might be an inconvenience.

"It'd be crowded, and I don't want to risk you getting in trouble." He told her in his most casual tone.

"Because that has always stopped you before." She gave him a searching look and then shook her head in disbelief. "You're going to see him, aren't you? You're going to give it back! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that, and you're just going to give it back?"

"Pansy—"

"Do you love him?" the question threw him off balance completely, and he stared at her, opening and closing his mouth without making a noise. "Fine, whatever. I give you all my support and love for all these years, and then you just toss it aside for some pretty green eyes and a nice ass."

"You think he's good looking!" Draco was for some reason offended, as if he was the only person allowed to notice these things.

"Just because he's sickeningly nice doesn't mean I can't appreciate his bed-head." She tossed him the cloak. "Go knock yourself out. I can't believe you're abandoning me like this."

"Pansy, I never—"

"I know! I know, okay?" she huffed and went back to her bed, flopping down on it. "Just…just go. If you want him so much that you're just going to ignore everything else…everything that should make it obvious you shouldn't even _think_ of dating him, then go. Maybe he can just ignore the whole opposite-sides-of-a-war thing and you guys can adopt lots of little babies together and both die spectacularly when you're forced to fight each other."

"I'm not a Death Eater." Draco grumbled.

"Yet." She reminded him, and he stormed out of her room with staccato steps. It was true…this was crazy, to think that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy could ever be together. Forget the fact that Harry would never want to trust him after what had happened. His father was a Death Eater, and Harry was sworn to kill Voldemort.

_Couldn't I have found someone easier to fall for?_

Pansy's words were echoing in his ears. Did he love Harry? It was really too soon for him to say. He knew that he felt…strongly. He wanted very much to be with Harry, to be near him, and to know him better even than he did now, in every possible way. He wasn't sure if that was love, but that was what he knew. Love might possibly grow from this need, it was so intense it made his chest ache, but he would never know until he could explain himself to Harry and see if the other even wanted him anymore.

Using the cloak, he was able to sneak into Gryffindor tower behind a third year whose name he didn't know. Harry was sitting near the fire in the common room, struggling with an essay and clearly getting nowhere. Hermione was snuggled against Ron, paying more attention to him than her own homework, although she already had twice the required length finished, and she was clearly aware of Harry's own restless agitation.

"Harry, it's Friday. You can work on the essay this weekend." She told him, and he blinked at her in surprise. Hermione was never one to advocate procrastination. "Look, you've had a very…rough week, maybe you should just go to bed."

"Yeah, mate," Ron seemed rather content for someone whose sister was dating a wildly promiscuous Slytherin. "Sorry I'm not more sympathetic, but seriously, you're well quit of Malfoy. Just get some rest and you'll feel better."

Draco was surprised that Weasley seemed to know something about what had transpired between Harry and him. Mostly because he hadn't recently been attacked by a ball of red-headed rage in the hallways. Maybe this thing with him and Granger _was_ a good idea after all.

"Can you please not talk about it?" Harry sighed, closing his book heavily and leaving it on the table, clearly not concerned that anyone would take it, something Draco wouldn't do in his own house unless he desperately wanted his homework stolen. Trusting Gryffindors… "I still can't believe how badly I buggered everything up. I honestly thought he needed my help…that he wanted to be with me. I'm such a fool."

"You're not a fool, Harry," Hermione insisted. "You're a good person. Draco's the fool if he thinks he can just cast you off and forget you like that."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry gave a sad grin, standing up and stretching. "But I'm the one who still cares about him, like it'll get me anywhere. I couldn't even help him, in the end." Harry headed up the stairs, and Draco was so shocked at what he'd heard that it took him a minute to follow him, so that he almost had the dormitory door closed on him when he darted after Harry into his room. There was the sound of giggling coming from one closed off bed, and Harry heaved a deep sigh as he headed to his own bed. "Can't you guys keep it down? I'm really not in the mood."

"Sorry, Harry!" Seamus Finnegan's head darted out of the bed curtains and then back in. The giggling was replaced by whispers. Draco looked around in alarm. There were at least two people in that bed, and Neville was sleeping in the bed next to it. He had really wanted to be _alone_ with Harry. Biting his lip as he tried to decide his next move, he climbed around the other side of Harry's bed and sat down at the foot of the bed, trying not to be noticeable.

Harry changed into his pajamas sluggishly and climbed into bed, shutting the curtains around him and sighing deeply as he stared up at the canopy. Draco felt a twinge in his chest at the way he was so clearly depressed, and he took a deep breath, gripping his wand and swiftly casting a silencing charm over the small area they shared. Of course, Harry heard the spell being cast and sat up, pulling his wand out from under his pillow and darting it around wildly, looking for a target.

"Calm down," Draco sighed, pulling off the cloak and trying not to be worried by the fact that he had Harry Potter's wand pointed straight at him now. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just here to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you," Harry hissed, not lowering his wand. "I didn't think _you_ wanted to talk to me, either."

"Look, I overreacted. I was understandably upset. I thought I was going to die." Draco explained. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you, and I'm sorry, okay?"

"Is that _my_ Invisibility Cloak?" Harry goggled slightly, snatching up the piece of cloth. "You stole this?"

"_I_ didn't, technically, I'm just returning it." Draco attempted to explain.

"Did you steal the potion, too?" he accused. "You don't seem quite as worried as you were before. And you still…you stole it and you still said all those things to me. What's wrong with you? I was really _worried_ about you!"

"Would you calm down?" Draco clicked his tongue. "No, I didn't steal the bloody potion, although Ginny Weasley _did_, and she gave it to me because she told me that if I was able to get her brother together with Granger she would get it for me, and apparently she didn't want me to renege on that deal."

"Wait…but you were just going to get it straight from me." Harry was confused. "And if you didn't steal it yourself, how did you get my cloak?"

"I didn't think you'd give me the potion, okay?" Draco explained. "I didn't see why you'd trust me enough, and after…what happened, I didn't think it was a good idea to spend time alone with me, because clearly the potion was causing me to lose my mind. Ginny had offered the deal, and I thought I would pursue that course of action instead, but then I found out Pansy had the materials needed to infiltrate Gryffindor tower, so I asked her to simply get the potion herself. She wasn't able to find it, because apparently Ginny had already been by, but she thought the cloak might interest me. I _was_ a bit aggrieved to learn that you've had this in your possession all these years. No wonder you were always getting away with everything."

"But…so you did get the potion after all?" Harry slumped back slightly, setting his wand aside. "So it's over with, then?"

"Yes, and I think the whole debacle will make me forever fear consuming potions of my own creation." Draco told him, expecting Harry to laugh but finding the other man just stared at him a moment, wadding up his cloak and setting it beside his pillow.

"Fine. Good. Then leave." Harry told him, his voice weary as he stashed the wand back under his pillow.

"But…I wanted to speak to you." Draco reminded him.

"And you did. Everything's all wrapped up, you somehow got Ron and Hermione together, so good job on that. Ginny's happy, Blaise is happy, Ron's happy, Hermione's happy, you're happy, everyone wins. You brought back my cloak, so that's it." Harry told him.

"But…I thought that there were maybe…some things between us." Draco cleared his throat, wondering what had happened to his eloquence. "Maybe you'd want to discuss."

"You already told me," Harry told him wearily. "That was just an act to get what you wanted. Clearly, since you were working with two other people to go behind my back and just take it whether I agreed or not, that's true. I couldn't trust you, so you took matters into your own hands."

"You _did_ trust me, though," Draco reminded him, his tone soft and weak. "You were going to give me the potion, remember? You didn't care if I was lying to you about some things, you were going to trust me."

"That was a mistake." Harry pursed his lips and looked down at his hands. "That's obvious, now. I thought maybe…but you made it clear that you were just using me, the way Ginny and you used each other, the way you used Pansy. You got what you wanted in the end, I don't see why it matters how you got it."

"It does matter," Draco set his jaw stubbornly. "I never got what I really wanted."

"What?" Harry shook his head. "Your bad luck is gone."

"Because of that potion…I came to see there was a different path we could take." Draco reached out, and Harry froze, not pulling away when Draco's fingers brushed his fringe out of his eyes. "In a lot of ways, that potion gave me horrible luck, but in the most important way…I think it gave me the best luck I've ever had."

"What are you saying?" Harry's voice trembled slightly, belying his stoic expression.

"I think there's something here, something more than bickering and contests," Draco motioned between the two of them. "I think you think so, too."

"How am I supposed to believe anything you say?" Harry asked after a long silence, and Draco gave him a slow grin.

"You don't have to believe what I say," he crawled forward, his face inches from Harry's. "Believe this," he pushed forward, and for the second time, he was kissing Harry Potter. At first, it was much like the first time. Harry was taken aback, and didn't seem to be responding at all, but after a few moments, he melted, and Draco pushed him down pouring everything he had into kiss after deep, passionate kiss, and Harry came slowly to life beneath him, his hands moving over Draco's form, his mouth moving against Draco's, and soft gasping noises escaping his lips.

It was consuming, it was intoxicating, it was the best thing that Draco had ever felt, and he knew at once that he had been right to not simply forget, as he had been tempted to do. It might be difficult for them to be together, but something so right, so good, so amazing…Draco knew he would never feel this way with anyone else, he would never again have a chance like this.

And tomorrow and the next day, they would be together, and even if they were torn apart in the future, knowing that he had taken this chance, been given this opportunity…he was the luckiest man alive.

----------

The End!!!

The requirement of this challenge was that Draco had to get Hermione and Ron together or he would die.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!


End file.
